


#vld pro event collection

by bushybeardedbear



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: #Positive Voltron, #Positive Voltron Events, #vld pro event, F/M, Gen, Minor Allura/Shiro (Voltron), Other, Suggestive Themes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-14
Updated: 2018-06-03
Packaged: 2019-05-07 01:46:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 29,611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14660766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bushybeardedbear/pseuds/bushybeardedbear
Summary: For the #vld pro event 2018 A collection of medium and short length fictions across several genres. More details to follow within and check out the event on Tumblr, Positive Voltron and Positive Voltron Events if you haven't already.Really, it needs more support! Positivity in the fandom can only be a good thing.





	1. Contents

** Hair Apparent **

Moments From The Show  
  
Inspired by Nunvill making a great hair tonic, a late night wander through the Castle of Lions with Pidge...  
  
Humour / Romance / Friendship - Pidge G./Katie H., Lance, Platt

**Confectionery Confessionary**

Quotes From The Show 1 - _“She's just a rock that I met and I admire very much...”_

Hunk wasn't exactly sure how it had happened if he was honest, though the most likely scenario was that it began with a batch of late night muffins…

Humour / Romance / Friendship – Hunk, Shay, Various Others, Muffins

**Misfire**

Quotes From The Show 2 - _“Ba-Choo! Ba-Choo! Ba-Choo!”_

Lance had to be stopped. That was what Pidge realised as she reached for her headphones, finding them once again missing…

Humour / Romance / Friendship – Pidge G./Katie H., Lance, Coran, Rick Astley  
  
**His Special Girls**

Head-Canons 1 – Explained within, but expect a little Langst...

There she was, as beautiful as the day he had first laid eyes on her. Still so utterly breathtaking, so mesmerising. Lance wasn't shy about asking if a girl had fallen from heaven. When they met for the first time it would have been the best possible time for him to have _ever_ said it. This girl really was from out of his world...

Angst / Hurt & Comfort / Humour – Lance, His Special Girls

**Quick Fix**

Head-Canons 2 – Explained within.

The merciless pelting of laser bolts screamed through the super heated air around them. They were pinned down and the Galra robots were advancing slowly upon their position. Any attempt to run, to even poke out from the mangled wreckage would leave them walking into a hailstorm of death...

Action / Humour / Friendship / Romance – Pidge G./Katie H., Lance

**A Denial So Denied**

Head-Canons 3 – _Lotor knows the truth..._

The Galra Emperor smiled. The very idea of it seemed beyond comprehension even a few phoebs ago, yet there it was. There he stood. Trying to imagine his predecessor smiling still seemed impossible, at least within the last 10,000 years. To Allura's already tangled mind, swimming with the possibilities of this news, that smile seemed to very much belong upon his face.

Hurt & Comfort, Romantic Undertones Perhaps – Lotor, Allura 

**The Four Episode Test**

Love – _The first time my partner and I watched VLD_

Our needlessly convoluted media setup whirrs and hums into life. I am filled with trepidation, perched on the sofa. It's a series I have watched before, but one she has shown a lot of interest in. Especially as she knows I write my own interpretations of their universe.

General / Romance

**Her**

Wonder / Will –  _The Inner Thoughts of Lotor as he contemplates Her..._

Curious. This feeling that stirs in me. It is at once very familiar and yet all new. I'm not a fool of course, I know very well what I'm feeling. Yet the... _intensity of it..._ I feel as though I am a far younger man once again. Beholden only to the whims of my tempestuous hormones and urges. No... It is not simply an urge so base. Not so crude. Not so vulgar.

Angst / Romance / Companion Piece - Lotor/Allura

**Him**

Passion / Soul –  _The musings of an Altean Princess reflecting upon Him..._

It is most strange. This feeling that stirs within me. I am not certain I have even felt it before. Not so strongly at least, of that I am certain. I'm no fool, I know very well what I'm feeling. I wish to deny it, but I cannot. The intensity of it overwhelms me. He should not be so and yet unmistakably he is. Such an utterly beautiful man. Such kindness and pain echoes in his eyes.

Angst / Romance / Companion Piece - Allura/Lotor

**Beneath His Cosmic Jowls**

Heart / Home – _Beneath the gaze of an oddly shaped Nebula, a conversation..._

Space, they tell you, is cold. You can never really understand precisely how cold until you are stood amongst it. Nothing but a thin layer of fabric and composite materials between you and the void. Of course, there are so many systems built into your suit that you never run the risk of death to that endless chill.

Friendship, General – Hunk, Lance

**Final Computation**

Hope / Sacrifice – _These passed in a microsecond. Amazing how much a microsecond can allow..._

Sufficient kinetic energy applied. Target now subject to gravitational force. ERROR. Unit compromised. Unable to exert sufficient force to escape current predicament. Probability 99.9 recurring percent that target prevents this unit from moving.

Friendship, Tragedy, General – Rover

**That Room...**

Humour / History – _I make no apology for this one, but I probably should..._

There it was, across the hallway and to the left. Shiro swallowed hard, looking to the large red pair of the Altean symbols on those otherwise innocent looking doors. _That Room_ was all he could muster calling it. _That Room_ which had caused such a scene when Coran had first pointed it out. _That Room,_ it brought him a small knot of illogical shame twirling in his stomach.

Humour, General – Shiro and The Pala-Dudes, Alteans Two, Awkwardness

**A Restless Moment**

Courage / Support 1 – _Pidge's insomnia leads to a necessary heart to heart..._

Too Quiznaking long. That's what it was. That was the answer. How long had this been on her mind? How long had she disregarded her _symptoms_ as some kind of space flu or other cosmic sickness? How long had she lashed out in protest rather than reached out in longing? How long had she denied that what she felt?

Hurt/Comfort, Friendship – Pidge, Allura, Lance

**An Inescapable Admission**

Courage / Support 2 – _Why do people or Altean Mice always overhear the most inconvenient things...?_

“You know what...?” Pidge smiled with a furious determination, “Quiznak it!” Her resolve steely and certain, “I'm worrying too much about what _could_ happen and I might be missing out on something great.” She marched through the darkened castle corridors toward one of many communal areas. This one, she knew, was a favourite of his. “I'm going to walk right up to him, I'm going to tell that dork _exactly_ how I feel...”

Comedy, Romance – Most of the core team.


	2. Hair Apparent

“Nunvill makes a great hair tonic!” Coran had once explained before applying a small amount to his moustache, which according to the second hand and disgusted report from Lance, responded accordingly and bushily.

Now, Pidge wasn't about to take the word of Lance as the gospel truth. Far from it. The idea of a potent almost wine like brew that tasted somewhere between hot dog water and feet, but was _also_ a working hair tonic just seemed insane, preposterous, utterly quiznaking bonkers. The logistics of it alone sounded crazy. Imagine, touching a little to your upper lip only to end up sporting a Chaplin. It sounded, Pidge eventually realised, very _very_ Altean. This was after all the planet with a people that once _enjoyed_ dodging molten rock from the sky.

In any case, the idea of rapid hair growth had – for reasons of a _purely_ research based nature – been of some considerable interest to her. Back on Earth, the snake oil salesmen of every century had claimed to have a fantabulous miraculous, fortified bona fide one of a kind hair tonic. Hers could well be the first that _actually_ worked. Whilst the idea of going into a business like that wasn't Pidge's first choice, Science, Technology, a comfortable home or two, these things didn't pay for themselves. Much as her focus was upon the current war, she wasn't _always_ going to be stuck in deep space, was she? Just thinking about the future. Or at least, that was the excuse Pidge had elaborately constructed for herself...

Platt scurried ahead, acting as her scout. The rotund rodent ushered Pidge forward with his tiny paw. The coast was clear as Pidge scrambled down the corridor, deeper into the Castle. Platt was easy enough to bribe into service, all that took was a Hunk-Baked cookie. Agreeing to not take his knowledge or their midnight mission to Princess Allura _or_ the rest of the mice however, that had cost the rest of Pidge's fresh batch.

Their destination was ahead. The pantry. With one lost affirmative nod, Pidge made the last dash into the well stocked food cupboard. It was cool, dry and distinctly smelled of cheese despite cheese having never been made on Altea. Around her, shelves heaved with bottles, jars, tins, tubes and containers. Blue fuzzy lengths of what may have been a kind of sausage hung from the ceiling, something that looked like luminous yellow chillies held suspended in mid-air in a containment unit, a churning liquid that looked like the horse head nebula, it's bottle bended to new shapes as it sloshed within and so many more maddening, baffling foods and drinks from across the Universe that even Hunk might struggle to make a decent meal of. None of this was what she was here for though. At the far side of the pantry, Platt waved frantically beside a shelf full of bottles.

“Bingo...” Pidge grinned, calmly walking toward her quarry. She grasped at the neck of one bottle, pulled one of several multi-purpose-tools from a pocket and flicked open a corkscrew attachment. With a satisfying pop, the bottle was open. With a wretched stink, she was certain this was the right stuff.

“Hey Pidge... You're up late...” A familiar yet fatigued voice from behind her.

Leaping around with a start, she turned to the source in fright. “Lance!”

Lance was stood a little hunched, shuffling about in his Blue Lion slippers and Paladin Bathrobe. Beside him, and until now unnoticed, a metal door had swung open, pouring light into the dimly lit pantry. Clutching at a bottle of milk in one hand and with the other just finishing up with scratching his lower back. He yawned loudly, his bleary eyes barely opening. His hair looked scruffier than normal, his fermented food goo face mask peeling at the edges. Frustratingly enough, the big blue dope still managed to look just a little handsome even now...

Pidge continued to stare, trying to look casual with an awkward smile.

Lance's face scrunched up in disgust, “Urgh... Pidge...did you cut the cheese...? Come on, that's not sanitary around all the food...” He ended his small lecture sucking more of the Kaltenecker special from it's bottle.

Pidge struggled to replace the bottle behind her back, “I... _don't smell anything..._?” Pidge lied, the nasal assault of the drink was growing worse, she was still missing the shelf. Stupid Lance, why didn't Platt spot or _smell_ him or something!? The little space mouse scurried away from the shelves, smiling apologetically up at Pidge and shrugging. “You sure you're not just...sleep...sniffing...?” Smooth move. She told herself.

“Smells a little like...” Lance wearily though still easily looked over Pidge and behind her back. “ _Quiznak!_ Pidge, why would you want to _drink_ that stuff!?” He looked firmly back at her, shielding his nose, “You got a drinking problem or something? Seriously, you _must_ have problems if you _want_ to drink that...”

Pidge pouted huffily back at him, “What kind of a stupid question is that? Of course I don't want to _drink_ it!”

Lance held his breath, awkwardly reaching for the bottle and looking desperately around, “Waste...disposal...anywhere...?” He gagged.

Sighing, Pidge pulled the cork free from her multi tool and went to snatch the bottle back.

She missed. His fingers slipped.

Platt's rarely widened eyes were now huge, staring in horror into the neck of the open bottle. It's contents splashed and poured over him. The Nunvill soaked into his fur. As his fur grew, more soaked in and as more soaked in...well, you get the idea. He did at least mop up the liquid, that was a bonus. Only the empty bottle remained. At the centre of a sad looking hairy puddle of yellow and green fur, Platt wiggled his little legs and little arms frantically in a desperate attempt to escape from himself. Needless to say, he failed. Falling into his own tangled mess of fur, Platt let out a mournful squeak of defeat.

Pidge squatted herself beside the now snivelling space mouse, gently petting the unhappy critter, “And _now_ just look what you did to poor little Platt...”

“Me!?” Lance shot back defensively, “Who was the one sneaking around at night!?”

“Well...technically _both of us_...?” Pidge regarded him with an expression of confusion. “But _you_ dropped and _wasted_ the bottle...”

“Wasted...?” A penny suddenly dropped for Lance, “Wait a sec, _now_ I get it!” He grinned, “You wanted that stuff to grow _your_ hair out! Right? I'm totally right, aren't I...?”

Another pout and huff, turning away to hide a sudden flush of colour, “No. Why would I want to do that...?” She was thankful to be able to focus entirely on soothing Platt, “It's just... Future... Paying for stuff... Hair tonic...” She struggled to articulate her excuse. “Longer hair would just get in the way, anyway... This is _much_ more practical... And I already said, I don't have a single reason to _want_ long hair...” No of course there was no reason she'd want that. No reason she'd want to return from a mission one day, bathed in the light of a sunset, seeing some tall smiling figure waiting there impatiently for her return. She didn't imagine pulling her helmet free, letting newly grown hair spill over her shoulders as she smiled back to him. She absolutely didn't picture the look on his face when she had done so. It had in fact never once crossed her mind for even a moment how his dopey, handsome, half stunned half enraptured face might look as he stared at her. “Not a single reason...” She repeated to him.

Lance chuckled, his tone as teasing as his smirk, “Maybe you want to catch the eye of some person? _Maybe_ you really _do_ have human emotions...?” He playfully ruffled at Pidge's short hair, “ _Kidding,_ Pidge... So you can stop giving me the murder face any time you like...”

“ _Stupid, Stupid, Lance..._ ” Pidge grumbled unintelligibly.

“If you're looking for a change in style, there's safer ways than that stuff.” Lance smiled kindly, “I have a bit of a talent for it, the whole hair thing. So my sisters elder and younger alike tell me... Braids, plaits, you could even pull off mini Leia Buns for Halloween... Do you think they _have_ Space Halloween...? I swear I've heard of at least _one_ Space Ghost...”

“Oh boy...” Pidge groaned, “A make-over. Sure sounds great...”

“Nah, not a makeover. You don't need one.” Lance reassured her, “Just a little relaxing hair therapy... Hair..apy...?” He shrugged, “You can just come over for a regular game night. You won't even notice me working... And if you don't like it, well, just a few seconds with a brush and you're back to normal... _Pidge_ normal anyway...”

Pidge nodded, “Fine...I...guess I can consider it...”

“Alright, you consider, I sleep...” Polishing off the rest of his milk, Lance burped loudly, “One more...” He grasped the Nunville bottle, “For milk...” He set the empties aside and shut the still open fridge door with a his leg. “Y'know, Pidge...” He softly said into the newly gloomy room, “Personally, I think the short hair suits you...” Lance yawned, wandering slowly out of the pantry, “...it's... _cute_...”

Pidge raised an eyebrow to his statement. Pausing to consider it fully.

“G'night!” Lance called, the strangest hint of nervous laughter in his tone.

“Yeah... Sleep well you big dork...” Pidge sighed, running a casual finger through her hair, “ _Cute_ huh...?” With a contended, contemplative smile she looked to the bottles of that curious Altean brew. Maybe she didn't need them after all...? Scooping up the mass of quivering fur that was once Platt she gently stroked at his head again, “Come on little buddy... I'm sure I'll have some scissors somewhere... Or a plasma cutter...”

Platt whined.


	3. Confectionery Confessionary

Hunk wasn't exactly sure how it had happened if he was honest, though the most likely scenario was that it began with a batch of late night muffins. He couldn't remember who had come in first, but he did remember it was all down to muffins. They had been sitting, waiting for a batch to cool, and suddenly they had just _opened up_ without him really saying anything more than, “Hey, what's up?” Hunk knew he was approachable, understanding, kind and patient. What he didn't realise that with muffins he became everyone's confidante as well. Serving them up sweet little muffins and they served him up their troubles. It wasn't that he minded of course, he loved to help wherever he could. He'd discovered that, when it was really important, he could very easily keep several secrets from several friends at once. He also discovered that despite being stuck in the middle of a Universe at War, despite the supposed _no secrets among Paladins_ rule, almost everyone onboard seemed to find no shortage of time for their little dramas and hidden woes.

Hunk was stood in front of the cooling rack, the mixing bowl under one arm as he absent-mindedly cleaned out the remnants of the icing. It was muffins again, so he had baked extra. If this had been Earth, the closest flavour may have been Oreo cookies. Precisely how he achieved that involved a lot of strange ingredients even by Hunk's usual standard. These muffins in particular had required a worrying number of dried out things that had once wiggled and squirmed.

The first of his issues to solve that night was a wild card. Coran would never have the same issue twice, that much was certain. One night he might come in panicked about a repeat of _the slipperies_ , another he'd just want to talk gossip about everyone else on board. In some cases he was way off the mark, in others, worryingly perceptive.

“Oh, _Wozblay_!!” His expression was one of terror, existential dread, “All the poking, prodding, vicious little beasts of Wozblay...” Coran danced about from one foot to the other. “Hunk, _I don't know what to do_...”

Hunk braced himself for anything, smiling kindly at the elder Altean, “Hey Coran, what's up...?”

“Can't you _tell!?_ ” He pointed furiously to his moustache. Hunk examined very closely, confusedly, “You see!? There's _several hairs_ out of place!! Hunk, it's terrible...I'm...” Coran paused, gathering himself, “I'm... _Running out of moustache wax_! My favourite brand hasn't existed in... At _least_ 10,000 years!”

Hunk handed over a muffin. Coran slumped down at a stool, eating the muffin dejectedly. “How is it?” Hunk asked gently.

“Like a hive of Huxaran Gustaticks are having a party on my tongue, as always...” Coran sighed, “By which I mean, it's good...”

“You're the xenobiologist here...” Hunk said thoughtfully, “Back on Earth, wax very often comes from a hive of flying insects called bees. Single queen, hive of drones, soldiers, workers, standard insect hive stuff. They make this sweet sticky golden stuff called honey, royal jelly...not quite sure what that does honestly, maybe used for make up, but what isn't... Oh, and they make just tons of all natural wax. Any other species like that in the universe?”

Coran pondered for a few ticks, “I can think of eighty, ninety perhaps off the top of my head? The tricky part is making sure we're going for the ones who _don't_ blow fire or super-heated _plasma_ from their thoraxes. Nasty little blighters those...also _disturbingly_ common...” Coran's brow furrowed as he took another nibble, “This cream...you've outdone yourself Hunk!” He shook his head, getting back on track, “But there's more to it than just natural wax! There's oils mixed in...and _stuff_ and... _things_ too!”

“How about you just find the right insects, we'll gather up some wax and figure it out from there...?” Hunk smiled, “And if they produce anything close to honey, that would be a bit of culinary bonus.”

Coran's smile returned, “You know what, you're right. Take it a step at a time. I was getting all atwitter for nothing! Thanks Number Two!” Just before he left, Coran asked Hunk the question he always did. Hunk responded as he always did. Coran half striding and half jauntily dancing from the room, humming a curious tune as he did so.

An easy enough one, for Coran. Hunk started to wonder where he might find suitable oils and whatever other _stuff_ Coran might have needed. Maybe it wasn't going to be so easy... Also, he had neglected to mention that bees were very small. The idea of fighting a hive of thirty foot monster space bees with plasma butts suddenly didn't seem so easy. The mixing bowl was spotless now. Next, the baking tray, before anyone else left it to fester.

Hunk's next customers always arrived as a foursome. Up onto the counter jumped the family of Altean mice. First came cuddly Platt, followed by skittish Chulatt, stern Plachu followed and happy Chuchule came last. Each of the cute little critters began to squeak, peep and chirrup. They gestured boldly with their hands, skyward, to the ground, outstretched to either side. Their fuzzy faces fixed upon Hunk in obvious concentration as each told their own tale at length.

“Uhuh...” Hunk nodded “Uhuh...?” He turned to Chulatt, “Really...? That so...? Uh... _huh..._ ” He smiled warmly at the group, “You guys must know by now that I can't speak _psychic mice from space_ , right...?”

The mice all looked to each other, then back to Hunk. They held out their tiny paws expectantly.

“Ok, _that_ I do understand...” Hunk was already busily tearing two muffins in half, gently handing each to the overjoyed mice. As quickly as they arrived, they waved and scampered off with a chorus of joyful squeaking.

“You do spoil them, Hunk.” Allura's bright song of a voice announced as she entered, “And that is why they love you so...”

Hunk slid her a muffin over the counter as she took a seat, “Hey Allura, what's up...?”

“Well... If we are to speak _relatively_ then there is no up at all in space! Only up from our own perspective.” She smiled cheerfully, “Pidge and I have been talking, you see. I hope that eventually our conversations can move beyond matters scientific and technical. I remain determined to one day style her hair, apply make up to her lovely face, have her wear a beautiful gown... I do sometimes miss having more _feminine_ female friends...”

“Yeah, but that's nothing new...” Hunk began to probe, “Usually you only sit down if something in _particular_ is on your mind...” He rubbed at his chin thoughtfully as Allura daintily and happily nibbled on her muffin, “Lance making a nuisance of himself again...?”

“I would consider Lance's _attention_ to be roughly at the same level as I would on any other day...” She paused, “Actually, as I consider it further...he has _perhaps_ been a little more _subdued_ and friendly... Less obviously amorous...” She frowned, “Though I am told he pined _incessantly_ for my return at the White Hole... Would not shut up, apparently. _Infuriating_ was the term...”

“Yep... That sounds about right...” Hunk shrugged, wondering to himself where Allura may have heard that. He had a pretty good idea, “So, there's nothing at all you've got on your mind? Not a thing...?”

“Well...” Allura finally admitted, turning her gaze away, “There is one scenario that has left me curious. Perhaps an outside perspective on it might be of use...?” She cleared her throat as softly as a feather falling, “Let us say, _purely_ hypothetically... That a person, perhaps of nobility, becomes friendly with one likewise noble whom they had previously considered...not so friendly... That is considered a good thing, an amicable solution, the _building of bridges_... Yes?”

“Right...” Hunk, wasn't 100% sure where she was going with this, but it certainly felt very _un_ hypothetical.

Allura continued, growing oddly more... Shy...? That's a new one... “Now let us say this same noble personage and their new noble ally through certain shared events might grow closer still... Indeed, the first person even finds herself thinking _often_ of the second...” Her concentration seemed entirely upon pressing two outstretched fingers together, “Finding _reasons,_ finding ever more fanciful _excuses_ to communicate with him... Wishing often that the distance between the two of them not be so great... Wondering, even _hoping_ that the second person, now her ally, might even share those same feelings... Is that...is that _wrong_...?”

Hunk frowned, “Wait a sec...” He paused, “Are we...? Are we talking about _you_ and... _Emperor_ _Lotor_...?”

“What!?” Allura turned a shade of pink not quite unlike her armour, “That...that is a truly _scandalous_ suggestion Paladin and I shall not hear of it again! Why, the very idea that I should have _feelings_ directed at... _him_ of all people... It...It is a _nonsense!_ The son of Zarkon, and _I_...? P-Preposterous! I was, as I said, speaking _entirely_ and _purely_ hypothetically! Good night!” Allura stormed from the room, but not without her muffin. “And thank you for the confection. As usual, it is most delightful...” She was also polite enough to ask the question they always asked of him before leaving. The question Hunk always answered the same way.

“Well...he _is_ a lovely shade of lilac...” Hunk joked, Allura responding only with a haughtily raised nose and a frown as she departed.

That could be an interesting resolution to the universal conflict. Not with a war to end all wars, not by the sword of Voltron, but through a very traditional joining of two powerful lineages in matrimony. It was kinda cute, the more he thought about it. Though, he did wonder whether the two would ever squabble over who has the nicer hair.

“Hey Hunk.” Her greeting breaking him from his thoughts as he grabbed a muffin. A happy noise of mmmm followed, “Oreo. Nice.”

“Hey Pidge, what's up...?” Hunk smiled at the petite Paladin.

“Nothing major, small technical glitch at best...” Pidge shrugged. These small issues were _always_ matter of fact. The most she'd ever need is a shot of sugar and someone to bounce ideas off. “The problem is that Coran and I tried to fire up the containment unit, it...well, it _doesn't contain..._ The field remains inactive... Been at it for hours after Coran quit... No idea what's up...”

“And presumably all the parts are in good working order...?”

“Obviously. Double checked, triple checked even.”

“Power still being received?”

“I'm tired, Hunk, not stupid...”

Hunk paused to consider the problem, “Is there anything actually _in_ the unit when you activate it...?”

“Why would that make a difference...?” Pidge scrutinised Hunk's face like an equation.

“Security measure maybe? Can't contain _nothing_ can it...? Has to attune to the item inside first is my best guess...”

Pidge shrugged, “Worth a try, thanks...” She raised herself from the stool to leave.

Hunk was glad to have a relatively simple problem to deal with for once. Often Pidge's technical issues were a lot more involved. He waited for the usual question as she paused. He was surprised to find her asking something else entirely.

“Actually...there _is_ another thing...” Pidge admitted, looking a little anxious. “I've been experiencing some really strange _physiological symptoms_ recently, seemingly at random...” She sat back down at the stool, barely making eye contact, “I'll have a short-lived fever, my palms will sweat, I'll feel light headed, dizzy, my heart starts _pounding_ , my breathing goes haywire, I feel like my stomach is full of butterflies...I'm not sleeping well and occasionally feeling kinda down... But I don't tend to get all the _other_ symptoms when I'm feeling low... The medical bay hasn't been able to diagnose any condition... I'm at a loss...”

Hunk nodded thoughtfully, “And... Are you feeling this way _right now_...?”

Pidge shook her head and Hunk felt quite relieved. Awkward situation dodged. “How about around... _Allura_...?”

Pidge shook her head, “Like I said, it's _at random_...”

“Oh sure, it may well be...” Hunk nodded, “I'm just offering some variables... Maybe seeing if there's a common factor you missed...” Hunk assured her, “So, do you feel it around... _Shiro_...?”

Pidge shook her head.

“Surely not... _Coran_...?”

Pidge shook her head and frowned, “Hunk, this line of questioning seems a little pointless... Whatever this thing is, why the heck do you assume it has something to do with physical proximity to someone else...?”

“Hey Hunk. Hi Pidge.” Lance sauntered into the room.

Hunk observed the symptoms flare over Pidge first hand, “Well, I guess it's going to stay a mystery...” Hunk responded with a smirk. Pidge quietly excused herself, only giving Lance a barely perceptible nod.  
   
Lance paused a while, a look of concern across his features, “Hunk...did...I say or do something to upset Pidge... _again_...?”

Hunk just rolled his eyes at his dense buddy, “Maybe you should talk to _her_ about it...? _In the morning_...”

Lance nodded, “Good thinking.” He grabbed his muffin, already stuffing it into his mouth. He asked the usual question, a mouthful of crumbs spraying the deck of the Castle. Hunk responded as always, and Lance quickly left.

Sometimes he wanted to firmly bash the two of their heads together, lips first. Though he suspected they'd probably _still_ find a way to go on in denial about it. Hunk tried to think back to when he first suspected. Galaxy Garrison. Without a doubt it was back at the Galaxy Garrison. Maybe the two of them just needed a little longer. Or a _lot_ longer... He sighed softly, turning finally to his whisk. Always the part he liked to clean the least, if only because of the amount of batter or cream wasted each time.

“Hey.” Shiro's bright tone caught Hunk's attention. As he turned, Shiro was holding the dark sponged muffin with its flourish of bright cream against his forehead, “This muffin stole my hairstyle... The resemblance is uncanny.”

Hunk laughed softly, not having noticed until now, “I guess I can call this recipe the _Shirogane Special_...?”

“I'd go for _Tasty Takashi,_ but that _would_ seem a little big headed, right...?” Shiro chuckled, the slightest hint of that issue that everyone could see but nobody, least of all him wanted to discuss, echoed distant in his eyes. “Delicious as usual...” 

Hunk suspected he would only get a very surface level answer, but still said, “Hey Shiro, what's up...?”

Shiro's expression was nervous and just a touch embarrassed, “Does _everyone_ call me Space Dad...?”

Hunk paled, “Well... _everyone_ when we're talking on a universal scale...”

“I mean everyone on board.” Shiro responded firmly. Hunk had never realised that it was possibly to bite a muffin menacingly.

“Yeah...” Hunk admitted with a nervous grin, “Yeah, we pretty much do... I mean, Coran and Allura don't...but that's about it...”

“Hunk... I'm still in my twenties. I haven't even met the right person yet... Yet you guys, just a few years younger really... Ok, closer to a decade in most cases...” He shrugged, “I know it's a little silly of me...but it makes me feel old...”

“Shiro...” Hunk offered him a reassuring pat on the shoulder, “It's just a term of affection. You're not just the leader of our team, you're like a big brother, best bud and mentor all in one. We all know that when things are at their worst, we can always rely on you. Your support, your care, your... _love_ even... You're Shiro, everyone's Space Dad. And none of us could do without you...”

“That's...” Shiro smiled, “That's good to hear... Thank you...”

“You know, you should just _own_ the Space Dad thing, right? Get yourself a pipe, _bubble pipe_ , grow a moustache, get a blazer...”

“Tweed and leather arm pads of course.” Shiro chuckled.

“Naturally.” Hunk nodded, “If anyone could pull it off, it's you.”

Shiro took his friend into a brief hug, the first genuine laugh from him Hunk had heard in a little while at least, “Thank you.”

“Hug a Hunk a day, keep the gloom away.” He smiled hiding a sudden thought, “Though muffins help too...” Hunk nervously added a tiny request, “You... _may_ need to have a word with someone though... Nip a problem in the bud before it becomes a _problem..._ ”

“If you're talking about Allura's newfound crush...?” Shiro smirked, “Then, nuh-uh, nope. I am _not_ going near that one...”

Hunk's nervous smile grew in intensity, “Not... _Allura_... Someone else...”

“Lance again...?” Shiro rolled his eyes, “I thought he was _finally_ growing out of that...”

Hunk shrugged, “Well, Lance _might_ be _indirectly_ involved...? But it's not _him_ you need to speak to... Somebody else... Well, _she_ is just a little _freaked out_ by a sudden rapid heart rate, sweaty palms, heavy breathing, swarm of stomach butterflies...all of them in _his_ presence... She's usually _really_ good at Math... But this particular 1 plus 1 for her equals _The Gettysburg Address..._ ” Hunk paused, “Y'know, because she's got it so wrong, she's answering in an entirely different field...”

“I get it. And the equation she _should_ be using is 128√e980…” Shiro groaned, “Yeah, this _does_ look like a job for Space Dad...”

Hunk smiled, offering Shiro a second muffin in thanks. Shiro let Hunk place it into his outstretched palm. His hand remained pointedly extended, he made a beckoning gesture. Two more filled his metal palm. Shiro nodded in thanks. As he left, he asked the usual question they all did, and Hunk gave the usual response.

That was that for the evening. Hunk was relieved to finally be able to hit the hay. Well, after one last conversation...

* * * * *

“And what is the question they always ask of you...?” Her gentle voice echoed through this shared moment.

“They ask me, _have you heard from Shay recently..._?” He responds with a smile.

Her laughter is like music to his ears, “And to this, you respond...?”

“Why would I have heard from her...? _She's just a rock that I met, and I admire very much..._ ”

The two of them were suspended, in a shared non-existent space that nestled somewhere between their two minds. Upon the distant Balmera, her body sits cross legged, grasping a glowing blue shard of crystal, a peaceful expression of utter contentment upon her lips. Within the Castle of Lions, he is prone upon his bunk, clutching the twin of her shard and grinning like a fool very much in love. Neither one really cares for their physical body in this moment, only the shared mindscape between them. It is little more than a peaceful, placid place of gently glowing soft pastel blue. They stand before each other on a floor that isn't there, both smiling, both as close as this will allow. Both deeply regret it cannot be closer.

“A rock indeed...” Shay pouted, “Do they _truly_ believe us Balmerans are formed of stone...?”

“Yeah, it's a little dumb I guess...” He reached out, but their connection did not allow him to touch. The gesture was still appreciated, judging by her smile. His blush at least was clear, “But then...they've never held you in their arms, have they...?”

“No indeed...” Shay smiled, “They have not... I miss it, Hunk... The feeling of you close to me... Your warmth...”

“I miss that too...” Hunk sighed. The shared crystals that connected them now were of course a small comfort. They had been since the last time he had seen her in person, that second visit to the Balmera. It wasn't guaranteed that the crystals would work, Hunk thought back to the fear as he held it for the first time, reaching out with his mind. He felt a little like a Jedi, except, y'know, more love. And that was certainly what had exploded in his chest the first time their crystals had aligned to each other. Hunk wasn't _exactly_ sure how it was possible from a purely scientific point of view. Probably resonance, maybe some kind of quantum coupling and maybe a reaction of wibbly wobbly timey wimey super strings. Hunk frankly didn't _care_ how it worked, it could after all just be magic. He was just glad that it _did_ work. The first time he had seen her face across the vast distances of space, he had raced over to embrace her. Their connection had immediately faded. They could see each other, feel the shadows of each other's emotions, Shay had frequently commented on the wondrous smells from Hunk's baking, but sadly what their minds would not allow was touch. At least not yet. They had tried many times and they were growing ever closer.

“But, I promised you a safer universe first...” Hunk continued, “I'm gonna keep that promise, Shay...”

“And I promised to remain as far as possible from the front lines...” Shay frowned, “Hunk, though we have often discussed this... Surely, you _know_ that I can handle myself...?”

“Yeah, of course you can. You're crazy strong, super resilient, quick witted and not a bad shot at all... I know _you_ could handle yourself...but truth is _I_ couldn't handle myself...” Hunk looked away from her shamefully, “I'd spend every second of every day thinking about whether or not you were safe... I'd just be a wreck...”

“I know very well that you care so deeply... It is humbling... Look at me, please...” As he turned slowly back toward her, she gazed deeply, kindly into his eyes, “But Hunk, you must trust in my abilities also...”

“Of course, I trust your ability... But I also know the Galra. They're even more unpredictable now that there are so many factions, you'd be in even more danger... All it would take is one stray laser bolt...” Hunk breathed deeply, “You don't have a part magical, part technological, living super weapon Lion robot protecting you... _I do_... If ever you need to defend the Balmera, sure, suit up... Suit up in the most protective power armour you can... Or a tank... In fact, _both..._ But don't go looking for the war, Shay... Please...?”

“Very well. I did promise you so, and I shall keep that promise.” Shay folded her arms, “Although, _you_ need to hurry up on your promise. Or at the very least, find some time to see me... A phoeb or two will do...”

“I wish I had that kind of free time, I really do... But I'm needed here, with Yellow and the other Paladins... A more peaceful universe will mean less need for Voltron... Less need to be on 24/7 alert...” Hunk sighed, “I think... Well, I _hope_ we're getting closer anyway. Maybe it can come sooner than we ever imagined, who knows...? Maybe the war can end with love rather than hatred... And then, it's just you and me. A billion billion skies to discover together...”

“I dream of our future often.” Shay's smile warmed Hunk's heart, “All that I wish each day is to be under those skies with you, held in the embrace of my sweet and dear Paladin...”

“C'mon...” Hunk grinned shyly, “You're making me blush again...”

“I know, and I find it very endearing indeed... I remember well the first time I saw your face redden so... It was strange, yet I felt such a fondness for it even then...” Her gaze softened, “It was our first sunset together, we sat upon the head of your Lion...”

Hunk smiled, his expression just a little dopey and distant, “I remember... How could I ever forget...?”

“It was as you told me that in Earth folklore, the hero of the story would _get the girl..._ ” She giggled softly, “You were so nervous as you drew closer...and then your gift to me. The Earth custom of _the kiss_... So _wonderful_... I wish to feel it again...”

“So do I...” Hunk yawned, “I'm sorry, Shay, it's been another busy day...”

“It is always so for my distant hero...” Shay nodded sadly, “Rest now, Hunk, I feel your weariness as though it was my own.”

“Shay, that shouldn't be what you feel the most...” Hunk smiled warmly, “You do feel it, don't you...?”

Shay reached her hand to his face, lingering a few painful centimetres away, “Hunk, I feel, as ever, a boundless and endless love reciprocated...” Her face grew solemn, “Know that I will miss you terribly until tomorrow night...”

Hunk stepped a little closer, “Can we try again...?” He asked cautiously, “It felt close last time...”

“In case it does not work...” Shay built herself back to a smile, “Sleep well, my beloved...”

“I'll dream of you, Shay...” Hunk drew closer still, “I love you...”

They gambled for what felt like a thousandth or a millionth time. They drew closer, eyes closing. Closer, their breath upon each other's skin. Closer, the warmth radiating from them mingling as one. For an instant, for the first time across their distant connection, _contact._ The lightest and softest touch of lips upon lips... And then, all faded...

Alone again, though warm in her heart, Shay touched her fingers to the ghost of Hunk's kiss. She could feel it still upon her lips. She would slumber well this evening, looking forward to the next night. She gazed upward toward the starlit sky far above her. The gift that Hunk had given her, had given all of her people. It was so beautiful. So beautiful that every time she looked upon it, it robbed her of her breath. Somewhere among those distant stars, Shay knew that Hunk was as joyful as she.


	4. Misfire

Lance had to be stopped. That was what Pidge realised as she reached for her headphones, finding them once again missing. With a scything glare to it's usual resting spot, her phone was absent as well. She began to silently fume. What Lance didn't realise is that like any hacker worth their salt, Pidge would always leave a back door to her tech. With a dextrous wiggle of her fingers, clicking the joints and finally her neck, a malevolent grin materialised. Laptop open, sugar and caffeine enhanced food goo beside her, her fingers danced over the keys. With every clattering stroke, her smile grew more eerily wide, each rasping chuckle more insidious than the last...

“You'll be sorry you _ever_ touched my stuff, McClain...” For a moment, a more rational version of her thinking took over from the tired manic side. “I mean... I suppose I did _let you_ borrow them... Wait, why _did_ I let you borrow them...?” She shook her head, “Not important. What _is_ important...” The side of her that should probably have been asleep five hours ago was back at the helm, “Is finding a way to make him _suffer_...” She paused, “Well, suffer just a _little_ anyway...”

* * * * *

Lance was doing what he might call getting his groove on. Coran, watching with a mixture of curiosity and concern, was trying to figure out if this was an attempt to loosen a particularly well embedded piece of underwear or a previously unobserved human mating ritual. Lance had plenty of those, but usually they were vocalised... As if responding to his thoughts, the grooving and moving turned to an assault upon the ears. Definitely a mating ritual, Coran decided with a nod, or at least practice for one.

“Aaaah, jus' wanna tell yoou what I'm feeeeelin!” Lance crooned, putting way too much effort into the song, “Try to make you, understand! Never gonna give...” His rhythm was suddenly cut short as he looked to the phone bewildered. He stared for a little longer and swiped his thumb to the left with a shrug. He took in a deep breath, “ _Never gonna give..._ ” He found himself confounded once again, staring at the phone and scratching his head. Lance pulled down the ever borrowed green headphones and looked to Coran who now busied himself pretending to clean. “I need a second opinion, help me out here...”

“Well...” Coran rubbed at his chin thoughtfully, “I was pretty sure you were going to dislocate both your hips. Is that what you were aiming for? Wouldn't that make things a _lot_ more difficult for you if the ritual succeeded...?” Coran paused, “Though, I suppose with the right technique...”

Lance had blanked the elder Altean by now and had just started playing the track again, without headphones.

Coran stared to Lance, “This can't be the same song you were trying to sing a second ago...”

“Hush!” Lance hissed, “I need to know I'm not hearing this...”

“ _Never Gonna give Ba-Choo! up! Never gonna let Ba-Choo! down. Never gonna..._ ”

“There!” Lance paused the song, “You heard those, right?”

Coran shrugged, “Well, it's certainly _different_...? Is bachoo a term of endearment...? You humans are an odd bunch.”

“ _It's not part of the song_ Coran!”

“I'm pretty sure I heard it in the song, Lance. I may well have had a very premature case of the slipperies, but I'm nowhere near so old that the ears have gone kaput. It was definitely part of the song. Actually, I think I've gone and got it stuck in my head...” He hummed the tune, “Yep, that's going to be there until at least next quintant...”

Lance grumbled, finding another song at random, “Coran, I'm telling you, it's _weird_ and not part of the original song...” He skipped ahead a little, “I want to see if it's anywhere else...”

The phone played, “ _Y'know it's Ba-Choo! Everything I Ba-Choo! I Ba-Choo! It for Ba-Choo!_ ”

Coran nodded, clearly impressed, “I had no idea the word bachoo was so polysemic... Or that Pidge's taste in music was so... Odd...”

“She's got _petabytes_ on here, no way she listens to even half of it...” Lance hammered his thumb for another random song, tapping to find where lyrics would most probably pop up, “Alright... Once is weird, twice is freaky, three times...? That's just _strange_...”

“Not sure that _quite_ follows the scale of progression you think it does...” Coran quietly mumbled.

“... _uust the Ba-Choo! Of us... We can make it if we try, just the Ba-Choo! Of us... Ba-Choo! And I..._ ” Another random song at another random point, “ _Ba-choo! And me baby ain't nothin' but mammals..._ ” Another desperately selected song, “ _...just Ba-Choo! good to be Ba-Choo! Can't take my eye's off of Ba-Choo!_ ” Another, growing fury rising, “... _aybe, the one who is waiting for Ba-Choo! Will prove Ba-Choo!, Then what will Ba-Choo! Ba-Choo!_ ” Lance found himself chuckling, skipping to another song, “ _And I-eee-I-eee-Iiiii will always love Ba-Choo!_ ” His light chuckle turning to a soft laugh, “ _I like me better when I'm with Ba-Choo!_ ” Finally, Lance had succumb to the music, wiping a tear from his eye.

“You alright, lad...?” Coran paled, watching as Lance wandered away, headphones back in place and laughing madly to himself, “I think the poor boy's finally cracked...” He twiddled at his moustache in thought, “Or maybe _I_ have...?”

 * * * * *

Pidge smirked, noticing that the headphones were resting on his stupid head. He can't have noticed yet. She could see it all unfold. Sneaking into the communal area, watching him lounge and luxuriate on the sofa. His arms outstretched to either side, his head resting gently on the plush fabric. He looked so peaceful, eyes gently closed and the hint of a smile on his lips... His gentle breathing, watching, gazing, the steady rise and fall of his toned torso beneath such soft fabric. Pidge caught herself, frowning away those odd and errant thoughts. Far too much analysis. The most important thing was that surely soon... Soon... Soon...? Her frown deepened, furrowed, a frustrated little groan. Lance meanwhile, _laughed._ It wasn't as though she _hated_ the sound of it, but it wasn't at all what she was expecting... His eyes flickered open, Pidge stood stunned, caught in those azure headlights.

Lance grinned, tapping at the headphones. He raised a single finger, the universally accepted gesture of _hold on a tick_ with one hand and with the other, urged Pidge closer. She cautiously complied as Lance removed her headphones, letting the music play into the stillness and quiet of the room. He sang, or screeched perhaps, along. “ _Aaah love Ba-Choo!_ ” His face exaggeratedly twisting around the laser noise, “... _Baby and if it's quite alright, I need Ba-Choo! Baby_...” Teasingly touching outstretched fingers to her chin, “... _to warm the lonely nights..._ ”

Pidge stabbed the phone with a firm finger, silencing it. To Lance's observation, he wasn't sure how much was anger in her face and how much was something _very_ unexpected, “Don't tell me you're _enjoying_ it!?” She snapped.

Lance gave her one of his trademark grin-smirks with a hint of a kind smile in his eyes, “Course I am. Adds a little new twist to old favourites... Like a fun little sub-genre...” He forced back a snort of laughter, “ _Rhythm and Ba-Choos!_ ”

Pidge silently seethed. She hadn't written a program to replace those words just so Lance would _enjoy_ it. Dumb dopey smile...

“Besides, every song with a word that rhymes with ooo...” His smile turned to one of genuine warmth, “I'm reminded of you...”

“Just give me back my quiznaking phone, Lance...” Pidge grumbled, averting her gaze.

Lance handed it all over, waving her off as she stormed back to her room. Things were quiet again, Lance realised with a sad sigh. He began to softly near silently sing to himself, “ _Wise men say...only fools rush in, but I can't help falling in love with..._ ” He smiled, “... _Ba-Choo...”_ ****  
  



	5. His Special Girls

There she was, as beautiful as the day he had first laid eyes on her. Still so utterly breathtaking, so mesmerising. Lance wasn't shy about asking if a girl had fallen from heaven. When they met for the first time it would have been the best possible time for him to have _ever_ said it. This girl really was from out of his world. But he didn't need the line in this case. She had opened herself to him willingly, changed his life in ways he could never before have dreamed. Without words they had bonded and with her, he had always felt accepted. Always felt loved when he was with her, even on the darker days where he couldn't find the strength to muster up the love for himself. Reaching out a hand to the particle barrier between them, Lance's chest grasped and wrestled with that familiar ache again. As much as he missed her, it felt that she had moved on. He looked hopelessly upward, hoping to catch her kind eyes flaring to life. Nothing.

“It's ok, girl...” He whispered into the hangar, “You don't need to let me in... But, maybe you could listen...?” She said nothing, she did not even move. Lance sighed, “Or, I can just talk at you and convince myself you want to hear me...?” The sombre Paladin sat himself against the particle barrier, resting his back heavily against it. It would crease the jacket, but Lance wasn't really in a mood to care about that right now. “You remember Earth, don't you girl...?”

“Of course you do...” Lance shook his head, “You were there for way longer than I was... Thinking about it, you might have been there longer than mankind... That's _crazy_... I guess you never really saw much of Earth though, did you...? Just the cave... I like to think that sometimes you went for a wander... Reached out with your mind maybe and saw the world... Bet you did.” Lance tried to smile and failed, “Maybe you saw it all? First tool being used. First people on Mars. Every War... Every Tyrant... But, you must think we're worth saving... Why else would you have ever left the cave, right...?”

“I guess, what I'm wondering right now, Blue, is... Do you miss the Earth too?” He paused, waiting for an answer that he knew wouldn't come, “Because I do. I miss the exact right balance of air, the right gravity...it's still weird, having to change and get used to a new way you breathe and walk and stand on each new world, to have to actually _think_ about it... It worries me that I'm finding my planet legs easier and easier these days...” He stared to the ground in solemn contemplation, “Maybe I'll get back home and even the _air_ won't taste right... The beach won't look as beautiful as it used to... Sunsets won't seem as magical... And despite all the insanity out here, the constant threat to out lives... Maybe I'll look back on all this and miss it... Maybe all this is my home now...?”

“I don't know girl...” Lance shook his head, “I feel like I'm just rambling... It's all Sam's fault really... You know, Pidge's Dad...? Maybe you don't... Well, it's not his _fault_ exactly... He just stirred all this up again, y'know...? He went back to Earth today. Took our messages home with him... There was a lot of...” He sniffed hard, cleared his throat roughly, “Lot of space dust in that hangar... My family will know I'm ok. They'll know how much I miss them all and love them all... Lot of space dust when I made those messages too...” Lance hugged his knees close to his chest, resting his head upon his arms, “I miss you as well, Blue...”

“Don't get me wrong, Red and I get along pretty well too... But you were my special girl... The Lion who first took me to the stars. The one who showed me all of this incredible stuff that I had no idea even existed... Couldn't have even _dreamed_ all this in my wildest dreams. You just gave it all to me, chose me as your Paladin... Really accepted me...” He sniffed hard again, a waver in his tone, “I don't know if I deserved it... I don't even know if I want it any more... I can't leave though, I can't abandon everyone. I'm needed here...” The waver turned to a quiver, he struggled against the surge of emotion, “But some days, I just wish I could have stayed home. I wish I'd never known about any of this... I wouldn't have ever met you... I'd have never met Allura or Coran or Red... I'd never have even met the _real_ Pidge under her disguise... What was it Sam called her...? Katie...? Couldn't have guessed that name back on Earth in a million years... Now though, it feels a little right... You know, I could live without seeing _mullet ninja_ again of course, it was only because of all this I ever saw him again... Maybe he would have been your Paladin...? Maybe Katie should have been your Paladin...? Somehow, I could almost see that working...” Lance felt his strength fading, as he fought the feelings back again, “Did you... Did you really make the right choice, Blue...? Or should I have just stayed at home...?” Lance paused, roughly wiping beneath his eyes with the sleeve of his jacket. He slowly stood to his feet, supporting himself against the particle barrier. “I figured that's what you'd say...”

He tumbled to the floor.

Landing hard, flat upon his face, Lance shakily moved to a kneel. A single metal paw extended toward him, helping him gently to his feet, steadying him. He could feel that familiar warmth again. He had missed that placid peaceful energy. Blue's unique Quintessence, emanating from every atom of the Lion, pouring into him. The feeling was in every piece of his mind, it was at once somewhere between the smell of happiness and the sound of love, a river of emotions pouring into your heart. Lance's gaze drifted upward toward his former Lion. Her eyes aglow, the particle barrier gone, she looked upon him warmly. Her paw bumped him as softly as a feather's fall. She lowered her chin insistently. Lance understood, letting himself fall gently against her, arms outstretched about the fore paw of his first Lion. He didn't hold back any more, letting the tears come in aching shudders. Blue, with gentleness and care that would seem impossible for a Lion of Voltron, rested her head alongside Lance. She made a soothing noise part purr and part trill.

“Be strong...” Lance nodded, “I know, girl...”

Blue slowly shook her head, a stern but affectionate growl rumbled forth.

“Be strong...by not hiding the pain away...” Lance choked on a fresh wave of tears, “You're right...”

Blue's glowing eyes faded to darkness, Lance could feel something stirring.

He breathed in. Sweet familiar air. The memory filled his lungs. Blue's memories of a young Earth. Sunsets and Sunrises beyond measure cycled through unknowable times. Blue paced forward as the ages came and empires fell. All the while, every breath felt like another piece of Earth returning, a kind of peace forgotten. Blue's memories of Earth as seen from high above, from far away, a pale blue dot, so fragile and precious in the uncaring darkness. Though he missed Earth, this was his place for now. Earth was not yet ready for half of what he knew. Lance wiped his tears away stood firm again, raised his hand.

“High paw, Blue...” He grinned, “Don't leave a defender of the universe hanging...”

Blue raised her Paw, and pushed. Lance slid backwards, the already mistreated soles of his shoes screeched. Blue rested her paw down again, and nodded to Lance. The Particle Barrier was restored.

“Thanks girl...” Lance smiled brightly, turning to leave. His gaze fell upon Allura.

“I had no idea you and Blue were still so close...” The Princess smiles warmly, Lance reminds himself with a wretched pang of sadness that it is just a _friendly_ smile, “Or that you were missing your home so...” Sadness crept into her voice.

He shrugged, “Must be nothing compared to...” He trailed off, “Sorry...”

“We all have our pain to endure, Lance.” Allura nodded, “Lesser or greater does not matter to the heart. It will be wounded all the same and we must endure it only as best as we can...”

Lance nodded, he was pretty sure he knew what she was getting at.

“Lance...” Her expression was now one of concern, “Is there truly no place among all of your friends here in the castle that feels, even a little bit, like you're back on Earth...? No place of comfort where you can be at peace...?”   
  
The young boy looked thoughtfully distant, “Some days, it feels like Hunk's gone a little space native. He's still my best bud, sure, but somehow I can't separate him and space now. Could be the fact he always smells of some alien something or other he's cooking...or I remember that the girlfriend that he's in denial about is a rock person... Or a lizard-rock person...”

Allura listened quietly.

“Shiro...” He paused, “Well..not sure I want to talk about that right now...but he seems...I can't put my finger on it, but somehow just not quite...ok...?” Lance frowned, “I guess one place that feels about right... Well, maybe sometimes in Kaltenecker's field, even though it's full of those Altean flowers... I can almost pretend it's a _real_ field on _real_ Earth... Just like she does I suppose...”

“There is nowhere else...?” Allura's eyes and expression filled with sadness.

“Sometimes...” Lance pondered, “Just sometimes, when I'm gaming with Pidge, that almost feels like home too... Being back home on Earth, I mean... It almost feels...I forget the word, but she's a little bit like one of those water places you find in the desert...”

Allura furrowed her brow, “An _oasis_...?” The brightness returned to her lips, hope to her eyes, “For you to apply such a description to her is... Remarkable...” She paused, “Lance, do you suppose that you can be a source of support for someone else who may well be missing Earth as well...? I can think of one candidate in particular...” Smiling knowingly she added, “She will, I believe be very pleased indeed to receive an impromptu, unplanned visit from you... Even if she does not easily communicate it, you mean a great deal to her. I suspect she also means a great deal to you... Perhaps more than even _you_ yet know yourself...”

“That...” He smiled softly, “Sounds like a great idea...” Lance led and Allura followed excitedly.

* * * * *

In the artificial sunlight, stood in the artificial field, there is a very real love between the two of them. Lance holds her close, his eyes closed and his smile contented. Her warmth fills his chest, fills his heart. He places a gentle kiss upon her forehead, caressing her and soothing her homesickness.

“It's ok...” He whispers, “Your Lancey Lance is right here...”

She moos in response. Lance feels it, he is sure this is a happy moo.

Allura looks on, her face fallen to utter despair. She's unsure if this is endearing, painfully strange or indeed both. She decides with an exaggerated sigh that it is most assuredly both. She leaves Lance and Kaltenecker to it. Quite quickly actually. “Well... _That_...” She grumbled, “Was _not_ precisely what I had in mind when I suggested you comfort a female from Earth... What was that term she used to describe you...? Ah yes. Dolt. Lance is indeed a _dolt_...” As she left, she laughed softly, “Still, at least he is smiling once again. Sorrow does not suit the dolt...”

“I know...” Lance patted Kaltenecker's head gently, “I love moo too...”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note  
> So what's my Head-Canon? That Lance confides in and misses Blue from time to time.  
> Also, he doesn't care about kissing a cow on the head. Lance is cool like that.


	6. Quick Fix

The merciless pelting of laser bolts screamed through the super heated air around them. They were pinned down and the Galra robots were advancing slowly upon their position. Any attempt to run, to even poke out from the mangled wreckage would leave them walking into a hailstorm of death. A few among the robots had begun to direct their fire at their cover. Maybe once, this fragment of experimental Galra fighter would have withstood the laser blasts. Now though, it was almost useless smouldering wreckage. Pidge's malware had detonated it's drive unit just a few ticks ago, now the remains were doing very little to protect them.

Lance edged his Bayard-Carbine over the lip of the wreck, firing madly and rapidly at the marching machines, “Whatever plan you've got cooking, Pidge... You'd better move your butt and serve it!”

Great, now she realised she was hungry as well as being rushed. Also, sitting cross-legged like this on the cold floor wasn't exactly comfortable. The rapidly appearing and disappearing holo-screens hovered before her, none yielding to her intrusions. Angry little red X's indicated failure after failure. “Who would have thought that a Galra Black Site would have tight security...?” Pidge's sarcastic dismissal came. “You just keep sharp-shooting and let me work...”

“There's a quiznaking _army_ on the other side of this junk!” Lance fired off a few more blind and desperate shots, “In a few ticks, we're going to get flanked, surrounded! Isn't there some... I dunno, data packet you can reverse the polarity on or something!?”

“I don't even have the words to explain how wrong that is...” Pidge frowned, “Quiznak...” Another red X then two more.

“Pidge! Don't explain! Just get us out of here!” Lance knelt beside her, more of their debris shattering away. “If you can't do this... Well, I hate to say it, but we might just be screwed...” He frowned, “Not exactly the way I wanted it... I would have preferred to be back on Earth... Somewhere quiet, peaceful... Maybe a hundred or so years from now... The kids, the grand kids, they'd be around me... And my wife, whatever _incredibly lucky_ girl that turned out to be... Who am I kidding...? I'd be the lucky one, just to have her, whoever she is, loving me... She'd hold my hand right to the end...” He sighed, “Well, at least I'm not alone...”

“Lance...” Pidge turned to him, her expression kind yet pained. Reaching out to him, she gently drew closer, removing his helmet, a touch that still felt tender even through her armour, brushed against his cheek, “Come closer...”

Lance nodded, stunned, silent. Even the shrieking bolts of fury, the sparks and explosions of molten metal fading into silence. The heat of the wreck was outmatched by the heat in his cheeks. Was this really happening...? Why only now...? Why not _sooner..._? Why hadn't he realised just how much he _wanted_ this...? “Pidge...I...you...”

“I need you to do something for me, Lance...” Pidge's soft whisper, the light behind her eyes, he was powerless before her. “Please...?”

He swallowed, “I'd...I'd do _anything_...” He found himself admitting that startling truth for the first time. Her hands moved around him like a blur of motion, he closed his eyes as a reflex, his heart racing. Something firm pressed to his lips, his cheeks...behind his neck...? His helmet was suddenly and roughly placed back upon his head.

“Good to know.” Pidge returned to the hacking, redness only from frustration of course, “Now, _shut up and shoot something_!!”

Lance could only frown and offer a muffled huff as he touched the duct tape that was now wrapped about his face. However, he looked quickly around for something, _anything_ that could... _Bingo._ A Galra fighter was starting to break free of it's moorings. Four little points, that's all it would take. But the timing... With a flourish of his Bayard, carbine turned to sniper rifle. Lance dropped to his knees, took aim. He breathed slowly, calmly. Patience. Breathe. Yields. Breathe. Focus. Shot followed shot followed shot. Three of the moorings snapped and buckled, the flaming craft swinging forward. One last shot. Momentum and gravity did the rest. The craft ploughed into the advancing Galra, shattering, crushing and mangling the robotic horde. The two Paladins silently High-Fived.

To their left, a door that had until now been blocked by debris exploded open. From the smoke, a fresh battalion of Galra Sentries stormed forward, a large chunk of them swiftly deactivated with the scything shots of Lance's freshly summoned carbine. He shuffled forward on his knees, moving one arm between Pidge and the fresh assault, his energy shield flaring into life. Three more bursts of fire, three more downed sentry robots.

Red X. Red X. Another damned red X, Pidge growled in frustration, balling her fists tight. “This _quiznaking system_ can go to _Quiznaking Wozblay_!” A hand fell softly to her shoulder. Lance looked down to her, his eyes determined. He nodded, gently squeezing and turning the comforting gesture to a reassuring pat. His Bayard reappeared, and four more Galra war machines were sent to Silicon Hades. The big dork might have even looked heroic if it weren't for his duct taped jaw, Pidge admitted. Not that she would admit that to him. The swelling of his ego would have been legendary. Even worse still if she ever admitted, _heroic_ wasn't the only positive H word she attributed to the boy in her mind right now... The system finally yielded.

With a flickering of the lights to darkness, then to red pulses of the emergency system, there came a shuddering thud throughout the entire complex. Gravity suddenly became much less forceful as Pidge, hovering slowly upward, swiped and tapped a few last commands. Her Bayard flared into existence in her hand, “Helmet full and you'd better hold on to something!” She firmly warned Lance. She had not expected that something would have been her, as Lance's arms wrapped tightly about her in a sudden embrace. It was not an unwelcome surprise she realised, the two tumbling together face to face in microgravity. His eyes suggested that beneath the tape, he was smiling. Pidge fired the energy tether of her Bayard, the bladed end embedding deep into a wall. She waved cheerfully at their enemies before her helmet fully enclosed.

The Galra machines shared a few confused looks, some of them flailing madly to reach the ground. In the next moment, announced by a piercing klaxon, the hangar doors opened. The pressurised environment met the emptiness of space. Wind howling, the atmosphere pushing wreckage and robot alike into the yawning void outside. A few made last ditch efforts to open fire, all in vain.

The Klaxon grew louder, more insistent, more...alarming... “Self destruct protocols...” Pidge realised with a spiteful groan, “Of course they'd have those in place as well...” She looked to Lance's eyes and nodded, “This could get a little crazy...”

Lance winked.

“I'm not even going to guess what you mean by that...” Though, she couldn't deny the curiosity all the same. Pidge let her bayard dematerialise, pulled him into her arms as the last of the atmosphere vented them into space. “Jetpack...Now!” She barked her command as they were at the optimum angle. With a jolt, they shot forward, further and further from the Galra space station. Pidge glanced back at the first silent orange-yellow bloom at it's core. In an instant, the rest of the station blossomed into a fierce white light, the concussive wave of force sending the two of them tumbling out further into the void.

They remained hanging there, the light of the station's death fading away. Only the sound of their heavy breathing punctuated the silence of the empty stars. Pidge smiled to Lance, letting herself for what felt like the first time, really enjoy the smile in his eyes. Even through his helm, to her at least, they outshone the stars. Softly and kindly, she risked inflating his ego, “You did good, Lance... That's my...” She corrected herself, “That's _our_ Sharpshooter...”

Lance responded by placing his helmet to hers, holding her as close as he possibly could.

“We've got you both on sensors!” Coran's panicked voice broke through their moment, “Are you both ok!?”

“We're fine, Coran.” Pidge confirmed. “Got an ETA for us?”

“We should be with you in just a shave less than a dobosh, number five.” Coran's tone growing steadier, “Lance seems quiet... He's not injured, is he...?”

“He's ok too...” Pidge reassured the Altean, “Just can't speak right now... Nothing to worry about...”

“If you say so, Pidge...” Coran didn't sound particularly convinced. “Honestly, the idea of Lance being silent gives me the willies... Coran out!”

Lance's head was now resting against her shoulder, his eyes gazing softly up at her. “You...can let go you know...” Pidge told him gently. He closed his eyes, shaking his head. “Or...” She gathered herself as the waver in her tone began, “Or not... That's...” She smiled, resting her head to his, swept up in his tenderness, “That's fine too... In fact, we could maybe do this more often...?” At the edge of her sight, she saw him nodding gently. Pidge hoped that he would still feel that way later. Maybe there would be a change of heart after she had finished ripping the Duct Tape from his handsome face...? If that happened though, she realized with a light blush, she could always offer to kiss it better. Something told her that he would not refuse.

Duct Tape. It really can bind anything...

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note  
> In this case, my Head-Canon is two simple things.  
> 1, Pidge always carries duct tape with her. Always.  
> 2, Wozblay is the Altean word for Hell.  
> Some of you would argue for a 3 and that Plance is Head-Canon.  
> It's totally not. I mean, it's not, right...? Right...?   
> Ah well. A chap can hope...


	7. A Denial So Denied

The Galra Emperor smiled. The very idea of it seemed beyond comprehension even a few phoebs ago, yet there it was. There he stood. Trying to imagine his predecessor smiling still seemed impossible, at least within the last 10,000 years. To Allura's already tangled mind, swimming with the possibilities of this news, that smile seemed to very much belong upon his face. Lotor turned to her gaze, a look of mirth in his eyes.

“Allura.” His tone was gentle and pleasing, “It is the map that deserves your attention, not I...” He closed his palm around the stone, around her hands, “We can study it later. We must after all be certain that there are no objections to this course of action...”

The Princess of lost Altea, holding in her palms a connection she had imagined lost forever to her heritage, her hands enveloped by the same impossible connection made flesh. His touch was so tender, more so than she had expected it would be. It surprised her to realise she had even wondered what his touch may feel like. “Indeed.” She said firmly after a short pause, “I shall ensure that there _are_ no objections. I will not be swayed from the path before us. Altea feels close to me again for the first time in...so very long...”

“It brings warmth to my heart to hear you say so, Princess...” He withdrew his hands slowly, reluctantly, “I must of course make my own arrangements, even a short time away for an Emperor is a difficult matter to contend with. If I do not wish to make any further enemies within my fractured empire, I must tread lightly.”

Allura smiled, turning to leave the vast library of ancient artefacts and dark magic. She paused for a moment, “Lotor...” She asked softly, cautiously, “If you should find time for it, once your arrangements are in place... I would appreciate your company upon the Castle of Lions... We do after all have much to discuss and to plan... Perhaps you might also share more of the lore of Altea that you have gathered in your journeys...? It would be fascinating...”

A smile of such warmth and kindness again, it was almost unbelievable, “I look forward to it, Princess. I shall be there even if I must make an enemy of some inconsequential subordinate to do so...” He was only half joking.

Allura's smile brightened, glorious yet soft laughter as bright as a sunrise, “Then, I shall happily await you...” As she left, she began once again to gaze with wonder upon the relic that would lead them to a world of legend.

Once he was certain that Allura was gone, the Emperor's features darkened. With a churning sickness, he looked to a terminal that had already consumed much of his time. He stepped slowly, painfully towards it. His mother's exhaustive journals. There was so much knowledge here to be unpacked, to be verified, new paths that he had never imagined. Answers that Galra science had barely realised even had a question. Yet all of that was dwarfed by one piece of information that seemed utterly impossible to ignore. Honerva had been driven to madness, to insanity, to the paranoid ramblings of a damaged mind. She, like Zarkon, had been touched by the Quintessence between realities. He had been born to them some time after Zarkon had returned from what seemed like death. Zarkon had endured for millennia as a monstrous version of himself. And then, he had always told himself, Honerva had died, disappeared, escaped somehow. There was no possible way that her sickness had been cured as it had begun, no possibility that she too had arisen and endured as a monstrous shadow of her former self for millennia. He told himself this, even as he saw that another monster endured, always at his father's side. He told himself this, the same lie for as long as he could remember, as often as he could. He told this same lie to Allura. Some days, he even convinced himself he believed this lie.

“The Witch is not my Mother...” He whispered into the archive, trailing a despairing hand over the terminal, “The Witch is _not_ my Mother...” His outstretched fingers balled into a quivering fist, “ _The Witch... Is not my Mother..._ ” He seethed, spitting fury as his fist tightened painfully upon itself, “The Witch _cannot_ be...” He read the excerpt on the screen again.

_Life itself, a fleeting petty thing to shed, as I have shed myself... Only in the infinite Quintessence do we have true value, to overcome the limitation and frailty of mortality. To allow greatness into ourselves, in pursuit of power. Pursuit though implies a chance to flee, and none shall flee again, none shall plot, none shall threaten our future. Our infinite future, ruling forever over the stars, the only true solid beings of infinite light in a universe of fleeting shadows... They will thank us in time, or they will learn fear..._

“As I...have shed myself...” He read aloud. There it was, as if it wasn't clear enough already. There was never any other explanation. No one else could possibly have maintained the position Haggar had done for so long. Nobody else made sense in the sequence of events. Even the shifting in her journals from perfect clarity to perfect insanity told the same tale. Honerva lived, if such an existence could even be called life. It could not be, it was impossible and yet it was true. Lotor fell to his knees hanging his head in defeat, “As I have shed... _Myself_...” He whispered. Clear as a bell, ringing across time and space. An admission written in her own words, back when she still remembered her old self. The Witch was his Mother.

Once, longer ago than he wished to admit, he was the merest and meekest spit of a lad. Gawky and awkward as teenagers the universe over very often were, at least in the stage before truly growing into themselves. His dual heritage had never made the process of doing so easy. He recalled with perfect clarity returning from his drills and training, the harsh upbringing that other species, even other Galra, would spend in education. Not so for the son of Zarkon. Every day must be a trial to destroy or be destroyed by. Each day he walked that razor edge. So, on this particular day when he had returned to his... _home_ was perhaps not the right word for it... It was the place where he was _raised_ and indeed the place where he was more often felled. After many years of it, he had come to accept the back of his father's hand as some might accept the gentle rain, but trying to stand again was always hard. It was supposed to be. The falling boot that pressed to his back, that came down, stayed down, so heavy upon his limbs and fingers that he felt each time they might explode beneath the weight. He cast aside his Father's care for the moment, in this memory it was still to come. He had found at ' _home'_ , hidden and forgotten, caked in centuries of filth a device, the sole purpose of it was to display captured memories. The small battery within had long since lost all charge, so he set to awaken the device, if only out of idle curiosity. A distraction for the moment.

When it returned to life, he had gazed in enraptured wonder at the unfamiliar figures captured in the frame. Bathed in the light of unfamiliar stars, on a bright and beautiful day, stood a handsome Galra, resplendent in highly polished ceremonial armour, a beautiful silken cloak caught in the breeze. Lifted boldly up in his arms, the most breathtaking face he had at that time ever looked upon. She was in the midst of being caught, her dress showed as it billowed in the draft of her fall. It was ornate, a tapestry of skilfully woven delicate purples, shining whites and lustrous golds. Her veil cascaded behind her. Upon her face and his alike, _smiles_ so utterly pure and hopeful. So very much and so deeply in love... He browsed more and more, picture after picture. The happy couple sharing the first slice of their cake, the groom trying to remove the icing from his nose with his tongue. Laughter, warmth, even on the faces of so many he could not recognise. King Alfor stood among the guests, cheering, offering a glass in toast, delivering a speech that had the Galra blushing shamefully and the Altean at his side laughing so hard that tears had formed in her eyes. She was so beautiful, so pure and happy... The man beside her, _he_ was long gone. Long lost to madness and to hatred... But _she_ , at least in this device and in his young mind, remained forever that smiling Altean...

His memory of that day ended as so many other memories did. Fear, that he struggled to hide. Anger, that his Father did not hide. The slab of a hand to his face, knocking him to the floor in a heap. Sometimes his Father would strike a bruise that had not yet healed, just to make it hurt all the more. He remembered that today, the only mercy was that Zarkon had struck the unbruised side of his face. “Such meaningless sentimentality...” His voice still haunted Lotor from across time, “...it only breeds weakness.” He had smashed the device beneath his heel, dragging Lotor's prone body over the remains. The same heel had come down harder than ever before, the front of his torso pressed hard against the floor. Sharp fragments pierced, larger pieces bruised. The air rushed from his lungs. “And weakness...” Zarkon snarled, “...must be crushed.” Lotor had flailed, punched and hammered uselessly against his father's armoured shins, tried in vain to lift himself up, to crawl away, to roll free. He remembered losing consciousness, his Father's words the last thing that he could perceive before finally blacking out. “ _Pathetic_...”

With a long outward breath, Lotor returned to the moment. His hands beneath him were balled tightly into fists. On the back of one, a liquid pool of his weakness. The heat of his weakness, running rivers on his face. The breath robbed from his lungs by such utter weakness. He had never escaped that boot-heel. He would always, _always_ be nothing more than pathetic.

“Lotor...?” A delicate harmony of a voice blessed his ears. “Lotor...what is wrong...?”

He remained silent. A benefit of long hair is that it can also serve to hide weakness. He heard her stepping ever closer. Cautiously, fearfully, stepping closer. The fragrance of juniberries, so wonderfully delicate, so effortlessly beautiful a scent, so utterly her. He bristled, a breath of shock. Her hand rested gently upon his slouched shoulder.

“Speak to me...” She urged, “If there is to be trust between us, we must speak openly...”

“Why...?” His weakness warped his tone. With a frustrated breath, he controlled it, “Why have you returned, Princess...?”

“I wished to clarify something...” Allura's voice was edged with sorrow, “Though that hardly seems to matter now...”

“I fell.” Lotor lied, “Thankfully you did not arrive sooner...” He tried to sound jovial, “You might have seen me flail and sprawl as my balance failed me... Even an Emperor falls, Princess. Even a Princess, must surely stumble from time to time? Do not concern yourself with my unexpected bout of clumsiness.”

“And what of your tears...?” She was kneeling beside him now, brushing a curtain of his flowing hair aside, only for more to take it's place. She gently tucked it behind his almost Altean ears. “Even if I could not see them on your hands, I could surely hear you wrestle against them... You forget, I have far more acute hearing than any Galra. They, I suspect, are who you usually will hide this from...”

Lotor was silent.

“That we feel pain is a terrible certainty of life, Lotor...” Allura felt her heart ache, “I know this only too well. However, pain that we do not share with others... That shall twist and bind our spirit. To hide it may seem like strength... Though in truth it only makes us weaker, more vulnerable to the next pain we must endure...” She moved her hand from his shoulder and placed it gently upon his cheek, “Show me your strength, Lotor. Confide in me this pain you feel and let the sharing of it soothe you...”

His eyes looked to her briefly, before falling again to the floor. “I am...” He began unsteadily, “I am forced to re-evaluate a belief I once took to be truth. It will take time to adapt to it. That is all I require, time. Though your kindness humbles me, does me honour... It is not necessary.” He cleared his throat, slowly standing to his feet and pulling away from her touch, “I would ask that you keep this between us.” His tone was firm, “It would not do for me to appear to my subjects as...weak...”

Allura frowned. “I have no choice then. I shall leave you here.”

“I beg your pardon...?” Lotor raised an eyebrow.

“If you will not confide in me, then how am I to trust you at your word...? Whilst I thank you, Emperor, for returning this to it's proper place among the Altean people...” She held the map aloft, “I regret to inform you, that I will no longer have need of your assistance henceforth...” Allura turned to leave.

“The Witch _is_ my Mother...” Lotor sighed the words, “Or at least, she was... Whatever part of her that was once Honerva exists no longer. Of that much I am certain. Learning the truth of this has...wounded me. Will that suffice...?”

Allura turned back to him, blue eyes met blue eyes, her silence and sadness moved him to continue.

“That my Father was a monster, I have grown to accept.” Lotor explained, “Though a part of me always knew it was a convenient lie, the belief that my Mother remained untarnished gave me hope. In my mind, Mother was a _victim_ of Zarkon. Like I was. She had escaped his wrath or else found peace somewhere beyond this life. If Mother had remained uncorrupted, then I was at best only _half_ born from a monster...” His expression darkened, “Now though, the truth is revealed to me in a way that is impossible to deny. Now I must come to accept that they were _both_ monstrous beings. Even if I should lay waste to the creature that was once my Mother, slay her as I did my Father... The two of them will persist always, in me. Not a hybrid of purity and corruption as I had imagined myself, but the product of two corrupted beings. I am just another, newer, breed of monster...”

Allura shook her head, “No. We are not defined by the blood in our veins. We are not defined by the gifts of our heritage, or indeed the responsibilities or the manifold drawbacks. We are not to find our lives mapped in the inner spiralling helix that rests in every cell. We will not find our destiny, laid out in a path from which we cannot escape, writ large upon the stars... We are defined by the actions we take, the lives we touch, the choices we make. We are, I believe, _always_ free to choose. Regardless of what you now know of your Mother, it does not change _who_ you are, nor _what_ you are, stood before me.”

“Who and what then am I...?” Lotor asked, almost pleaded. “If not the son of a Witch and a Beast, what am I...?”

“You are Emperor of the Galra. Far sighted, working to a future where there need be no more war, no more strife. You are something that no Witch and no Beast might ever slay, nor cage nor extinguish.” Allura smiled, “I look upon you, and I see hope for us all.”

Lotor's expression was to most unreadable, though to one of Allura's royal upbringing, it was the well practised mask that every great head of state must don in public. Everything is ok and I am in charge it effortlessly said. All the while hiding every inner thought. Allura could see the truth behind it, a man touched, bewildered, struggling even to allow his own kindness to flourish, even, she realised, vulnerable. A strangely endearing vulnerability. Yet still, there was a truth in his posture, a strength was shining again in his eyes. Though his realisation troubled him still, of that there was no doubt, he could at least face the universe more easily now. That would have to be enough for now.

“If it is hope you see in me, Princess...” Lotor's facade cracked to a smile, “I suspect you observe yourself and I am but a mirror.”

“Then let us both believe what we see, rather than doubt the source.” Warmth in her chest radiated to her smile, “I am glad that we both do at least agree, that there is hope for us all.”

“Indeed we do...” Lotor nodded, “I thank you Princess, for your counsel. Perhaps together, we may yet see that hope realised.”

Allura found herself wondering their two paths ahead, the route they would carve out for themselves toward the future. How closely may the paths they choose yet entwine? How closely did she wish them to? For a fleeting moment, she wondered if in fact it was not two paths they would walk, but a single one that they would share at each other's side. “Nothing would please me more.”

“For now though, I must, as I said before, make arrangements.” He bowed politely, “If you will excuse me, Princess...?”

“You are excused. I will hope for the pleasure of your company later, Emperor Lotor.”

“The Universe itself...” Lotor promised, “Will not stand in my way...”

 


	8. The Four Episode Test

Our needlessly convoluted media setup whirrs and hums into life. I am filled with trepidation, perched on the sofa. It's a series I have watched before, but one she has shown a lot of interest in. Especially as she knows I write my own interpretations of their universe. My Love is discerning in her tastes, I meanwhile will watch the worst movies I can find as a form of hideous unintentional comedy. I have inflicted a lot of bad choices on her over these happy years together. _The Prequel Trilogy_ made only tolerable through memes, _Batman Versus Superman: Dawn of Boredom_ made only tolerable through mead and even the dreaded Omni Dub of _Transformers Headmasters_ which she couldn't even last a whole episode of. I hope that this series will not soon be among that ignoble pile. Those brilliant blue eyes soothe me as they often do. They shine with the passion of her strong and loving heart. The heart that beats in time with mine. She sits beside me, we embrace and the opening rolls. Hours pass and after that hours more. Darkness creeps in through the window. Before I even realise it's done, Haggar has gazed through the eyes of her Operation Kuron doppelgänger, her sights set firmly upon Oriande. It seems Voltron Legendary Defender has passed our usual test with flying colours.   
  
We talk for hours more beyond those end credits, the theories and hopes and fears we have for the next season. Where is the real Shiro, if anywhere? When will Lance get the message that Allura's just not that into him? Or will they throw a curve ball? Could Team Punk be more than buds? It _is_ a good ship name. Not if Shay has anything to say about it we agree. Will there be a musical episode? Sure, the You're Welcome video is fun and all, but a full episode would be amazing. Most notably, we both can see how easily Lotor might turn back once more to the darkness, yet both hope that some way, perhaps through the love of a certain princess he might be saved from that path. _Those looks they shared said it all_ , she tells me. I've made a Lotura shipper out of her. Oddly she seems to have turned into a Plance shipper too. My influence and asking that she proof read my nonsense had nothing to do with. Honest. It seems a strange thing to share perhaps, a combining robot pseudo-anime, but we do all the same.

“Next...” My Love tells me, “We're re-watching Avatar, and no, _not the silly blue cat people one_...”  
There's many a reason that she is the love of my life.   
The fact we both love Voltron now is just one more.

It's truly wonderful to love the fan beside you.  
Try to be loving to all the fans that surround you.

 


	9. Her

Curious. This feeling that stirs in me. It is at once very familiar and yet all new. I'm not a fool of course, I know very well what I'm feeling. Yet the... _intensity of it..._ I feel as though I am a far younger man once again. Beholden only to the whims of my tempestuous hormones and urges. No... It is not simply an urge so base. Not so crude. Not so vulgar. Though to deny it utterly, of course is foolish. I cannot even look upon her _eyes_ and upon her _smile_ without feeling the maddening ache to the core of my very being. I cannot look upon her face without the urge to draw her closer... I could, a man in my position, have a harem to fulfil my every desire no matter how fleeting or frivolous. Many men in my position would, though they would not admit it... Yet for me, it turns my stomach, revolts me to reduce not only they but _myself_ to such craven lust... No, I am as I have always been, strictly a one being being... And in my years I have known many... Loved many... Yet nothing like this... Nothing even close...

I have gazed into the Pegasus cluster to grasp the fragments of solid starlight within. Off the edges of the Ophidian's Belt I have walked in the temple of their makers. Elder Things have lighted my path to dimensions of thought beyond the limits of flesh. I have gazed into the abyss, bathed in the rawest and purest Quintessence... I have looked upon the Trinary stars of Hyers as their alignments for once in a billion years create a singular Multi-Solar Eclipse... I have touched the crystal fountains of lost Ganlus. I have surfed the energies of a white hole. I have stood upon the glorious world of Oriande, breathed in the air of its legend. Yet there she stood also... More wondrous and more captivating than any sight that world might offer... Than _any_ world might offer... Of all the glorious things in the Universe that I have gazed upon, touched, known... All the wonders I have seen...nothing else has ever robbed the breath from my chest so...

To even think her name...it makes my heart tremble...

 _Allura_...

It's every _syllable_ is perfection, a melody written to provoke joy in any ear that hears it, any heart that feels it. She is a walking work of art. Living and breathing history. The stars themselves might seem dim if placed alongside her radiance. And what am I to her...? That she smiles kindly, yes I see it... That her expression is warm, I see it... That she yearns for us to work together for the good of the entire universe, it is true to her very core... But kindness and warmth, the desire for peace... These are to her as natural as breathing is for me. I cannot, I must not assume...must not even hope that it might be more than this...

Indeed, that makes the most sense. Peace may come with our work together. It need not be sealed by our union, no matter how wondrous this would be. No, it is not for me to know that joy. I am merely a step toward the next epoch. I shall guide the Universe toward peace and a post-scarcity reality for us all. Infinite energy will mean an end to all war and all suffering. Maybe once this goal has been achieved...maybe then and only then may I even consider the possibility of union, of lineage... Of... _Love..  
  
_ But, have I the strength to wait...? Often, too often, I wonder if I could cast aside my dream, my Empire, the fate of Universe itself...? Could I cast all that aside for one thing...? For _Her_...? And I fear, I am _terrified_ by the answer. Yes. I could. Yes, often I even want to. Yes, I could be so utterly reckless, so inconceivably _selfish_ to put my own yearnings before the entire universe... All for her embrace, for her eyes to regard me as her beloved, to look upon such wonders and share such secrets as no man but I would ever see nor share... To trail an errant caress over such delicate skin, to see her reaction to that touch... I could so _easily_ forget the universe for that... And if I am so weak before her, just one person... How can I delude myself that this same selfish desire shall not grip my soul when the the walls between the realities falls...? It would be so easy...

If my will falters for one Altean Princess, then it seems inevitable... I shall I fall back into the darkness that spawned me... I shall mirror my Father's Hatred and the Witch's Madness... Infinite power will corrupt me infinitely... But can I turn back from that fate? Can my weakness be overcome...? I fear it cannot. When faced with the challenge to submit to the White Lion I did not react as an Altean, but as a Galra. Not with the strength and the will I need to see the universe prosper... But with fearful weakness, with my Father's rage... I wonder even now, what plan shall be best, what route shall I take...? Will I do what is necessary, or shall I do what is best...? The choices can lead to any number of fates... Any number of realities... And which shall I finally move toward...? Even I do not know...my twisted Mother's scheming shall always be mine also no doubt...

I wonder though... If my own will is so pitiful... Dear Princess Allura, could you draw me from the darkness...? Could you save me from that fate...? Will you... _Could_ you... Could you even dream of loving me...? What would you say if I dared to ask...? If you could be there for me, be the strength I need, the kindness that a ruler must have...if it were ever possible, dear and endlessly enrapturing Allura... If you you could love this Galra...the wonders would never cease...

What shall I do...?

 


	10. Him

It is most strange. This feeling that stirs within me. I am not certain I have even felt it before. Not so strongly at least, of that I am certain. I'm no fool, I know very well what I'm feeling. I wish to deny it, but I cannot. The intensity of it overwhelms me. He should not be so and yet unmistakably he is. Such an utterly beautiful man. Such kindness and pain echoes in his eyes. I feel always that he is on the verge of tears and I long to soothe that pain. It would not be proper, it would barely even seem sane... Our Father's were allies once, yes... And perhaps after 10,000 years it is time to rekindle that alliance. To solidify it... I could so easily make the case that my actions are purely for the sake of the universe. It would indeed be true to an extent. Yet also, to be at his side... I have never felt so much this _longing_... Though, I am a Princess. I cannot let it seem that my decision is made on any basis but that of a diplomatic necessity. No, there is no passion here... No, there is no yearning... I am not fallen deep into love... Those lies I am sure that some would believe... But not Him... He would know the truth, from my first kiss to my last he would know the truth of my feelings...

How though can I think of this...? I have seen such suffering inflicted on this universe. The enclaves of the Kuy, burned to cinders for not swearing fealty. So many Balmera even now suffer, and in the centuries, the millennia, surely hundreds have not simply died... But died in such awful torment... Worlds beyond number have been drained to the last all their Quintessence, every being nothing more than energy to the murderous hunger of Zarkon. And here I am, gazing into the stars and thinking so...so... _Wantonly_ and so _amorously_ of the child he raised... Can just a smile and glowing markings upon his cheeks be enough to sway me from that truth...? Yes, it as though he sets my heart aflame, he is still the son of Zarkon. I long to feel his embrace, soft trails of kisses to my neck... Goodness... I would share my life with him, yet he is the _son of Zarkon..._ Despite this...for all the suffering that Zarkon inflicted, there is one more victim who still suffers from the tyrant's wrath. One more who even now, having ended Zarkon, shall be forever haunted by that monster... _Him_...

To even think of him...it confuses, _thrills_ and elates me so...

 _Lotor_...

Shining smile and intellect both, so very well sculpted a form... A very grand example of hybrid _vigour_ in action... Even his hair... I am almost _jealous_... That he should make me feel this way is maddening, but I cannot deny it. That he was once an enemy I also cannot deny... That I was so ugly and rash in treating some Galra badly... Poor Keith whom I so wronged... The blade of Marmora whom my prejudice nearly kept from our alliance... Even those few commanders, the ones I pretended did not stand upon the bridge of their vessels... I watched those starships blossom into death in the darkness... Father, help me, I _smiled_... I knew that I brought death and it _gladdened_ me... Never once considering those dead worthy... They after all were merely Galra... Those feelings of mine are so foul, so ugly and wretched... Is it that they stir again? Is it my hatred of the Galra that keeps me from being honest even with myself...? He is not Zarkon and I cannot deny what I know I feel... Though nor can I deny he has betrayed us in the past...

Of course. I am a fool... It is part of his manipulation that I feel this way. It must be. Peace may come, but at what cost? Peace under Lotor as a tyrant, and we shall merely be stepping stones. My passion so warped shall condemn the Universe, a reality of devastation beyond anything Zarkon could dream. Given infinite power, it will mean and new era of war and suffering. Of course it's all a trick... What else could it ever be...? How could I even consider the _possibility_ of a political allegiance... A marriage to unify the universe... How could I be so foolish to be blind to his _Hatred...?_  
  
No... No what am I thinking, what is this venom and bile...? No, I am not so easily manipulated. I cannot cast aside the best chance the universe has for peace! I am letting fear and hatred blind me, blinker me... Twist and warp my heart. I must cleanse my self, my very soul of these awful feelings. I must do it, for myself and for the universe.... And for Him. If I am so bound by the weight of hatred, how can I be the true peacemaker I know I must be... I think I understand now... He needs me. Not simply to embrace, to look upon and be looked upon with love... No, he must be reminded of the universe and our duty to it. I could, perhaps I must be that guiding light for him. It could be so easy...

Yes, so very simple as well... By allowing myself to love him, as I feel growing in me every day... The warmth I feel as I think of him, the yearning... I know I shall fall deeper still, and expunge my every hatred that the war created in me... I will be as my Father's kindness and he shall be as My Mother's vision. Yes, a lasting peace that may endure with us both guiding and bettering the other. Just as any partnership should be. Why would I turn back from that fate? Shared passion is but one worthy and most _distracting_ thing to desire, but more importantly we can be the compass to one another's souls... I must act as an Altean, I must see the bigger picture. The universe needs us more than either one of us needs the other... And yet, I see it clearly now, we need one another more than anything... I hope that he can see this too...

Dear Lotor, with kindness that needs love to flourish. I could keep you from the darkness in your soul and you could keep me from my own... Would you wish for such a fate...? Wedded to this relic of a dead world...? Do you ever dream of love at all...? Is there room for it in your future...? Should you dream of it, do you dream of me...? What could I say and would I dare to ask...? If I asked you for your hand... I would ask you for the universe, for yourself, for me... Would you say yes merely as an Emperor? Could you say yes as my...beloved...? Could you even say no...?

What is to be done...?

 


	11. Beneath His Cosmic Jowls

Space, they tell you, is cold. You can never really understand precisely how cold until you are stood amongst it. Nothing but a thin layer of fabric and composite materials between you and the void. Of course, there are so many systems built into your suit that you never run the risk of death to that endless chill. Even more so when the suit in question is a magitech set of armour designed for the Paladins of Voltron. Still, even through barriers magical and technological, the coldness of space seeps into your very soul, it chills you even to your Quintessence. For a young man who grew up in a place of warmth and comfort, for mind, soul and body alike, the only way he could get used to it was to distract himself from it. So, even though it would bring no joy to the young man he worked beside, he would stride about on his artifically-grav-shackled boots over the surface of the vessel, offering every observation that came to his head. Which was a lot.

“That nebula over there looks _exactly_ like a pug...” Lance looked further at the coalescing cloud of multi-coloured gases, “If pugs had big Abraham Lincoln hats and even bigger rocket boots, I guess... Also, I remember hearing back at the Garrison that all those pictures of nebulas are digitally enhanced... Never thought they really _had_ multi-colour ones out in space...”

“As I already said the first time you pointed it out...” Hunk held back a sigh, concentrating on making the last few repairs go without any further hassle. “I personally think it looks more like a stack of cupcakes or a cheeseburger... Though admittedly, my stomach may be influencing what I'm seeing just a little... There's also a perfectly good explanation why that nebula has multiple coloured gases... Could you pass me the next panel...?”

“If the explanation is longer than a sentence or it's going to involve too much science? Not interested...” Lance shrugged, handing Hunk a thin sheet of shimmering Altean composite matter. Thinner than paper yet stronger than steel, these last few pieces of radiation shielding would be the end of the repair work, “I don't really see what the big deal about this is. If comic books taught me anything, radiation gives things super powers. Don't we _want_ super powered food goo...?”

“Well, then I guess comic books have taught you nothing...” Hunk grunted impatiently, fixing the panel with a flourish of the Altean repair tool, a stout silver rod that glowed purple at one end. “Because if we let our supply of food goo get irradiated, all we'd end up with is either utterly inedible or carcinogenic food goo...”

“Just trying to have a joke, man...” Lance muttered.

“Sorry, sorry...” His apologetic smile hinted at a touch of embarrassment, not that the tint of the helmet could let Lance see for sure. “That's Hungry Hungry Hunk talking. I might have mentioned before but I am _really_ keen to get this done with...”

“Don't worry about it.” Lance waved off Hunk's brief mood, smirking, “I know you can go all Bruce Banner when you've missed second breakfast...”

“Lance... Panel...? ...It is _long past_ second breakfast...” Another flourish, another panel secured, “We're at least at elevenses... And yeah, you wouldn't like me when I'm hungry...” Hunk sighed, “Not exactly going to have time for more than a snack though... You _do_ remember that after this we still need to help Coran flush the quantum sluice, right...?”  
  
“I swear he makes these things up...” Lance pouted, “There was me thinking I'd just inhale some food goo after all this and get to kicking back with a movie and a game night... Haven't been able to squeeze a decent game night in for quintants...”

“Didn't you two have one last night...?” Hunk queried, his hand hovering expectantly for a fresh panel, “And the night before...? Also, surely _night_ is by definition in the _later part_ of the day...? Quintant... Whatever... It's not even afternoon yet...”

“They were like an hour tops before we were both too exhausted...” Lance moaned, offering another sheet, “Like I said, _decent_... Needs to be at least a few vargas... Three, four at a minimum...”

“You must be some kind of masochist...” Hunk laughed, “Or maybe there's some other reason you _want_ to spend three or four vargas getting your ass beat...?”

“I will have you know...” Lance protested in a mock haughty tone, “That Pidge does _not_ always beat me...”

Hunk turned to his friend silently. He needed only to raise an eyebrow.

“There was that one time...”

Hunk's expression grew sterner.

“Look, whatever, the point isn't who _wins_ and who _loses_... Competition, that's not really that kind of a thing we've got going on...” Lance folded his arms huffily, handing Hunk another panel, “The point is we're both having fun and just getting to feel a little bit like a couple of normal teenagers for a while...”

“Huh...” Hunk smirked as he turned back to his work, “Panel?” He worked upon the next section, “See, I wasn't aware that you two had a _thing_ going...or that Pidge was only posting her win rate _ironically_ in the communal areas...”

“She's doing _what_!?” In space, no one can hear you screech. Even Hunk's comm unit lessened the blow of the volume, “You mean that _huge_ poster with 100% written on it...? I thought that was our team _Galra_ win rate...” Lance paused for a moment mid frustrated grumble, “And as for that _slander_ that you're _inseminating_...”

“Please mean _insinuating_...” Hunk mumbled.

“The only _thing_ we've got going on is a mutual friendship that feels an awful lot like being back home for both of us...” Lance sighed, “If you ignore the fact we're gaming on a giant castle space ship in the middle of deep space that is...”

The short silence that followed was simultaneously a relief for Hunk as well as being uncomfortably unlike Lance in every single way. Taking the last panel, Hunk secured it in place before sliding a larger repair hatch back into position. Hunk took a seat against the hull, gently patting the area beside him. “You want to talk about it...?”

Lance would have plunged his hands into his pockets normally, the gesture instead awkwardly slipping off his armoured thighs. “What's to talk about really...?” He brushed himself off as though he had totally meant to do that, “It's the same old thing really, I'm homesick. All just got a little...I dunno, opened up again, ever since Sam left... Pidge's Dad, I mean...”

Hunk patted the spot beside him again and Lance obeyed at last, “Cause it made you realise we could all just... Hop in a shuttle any time we wanted and go back to Earth... Maybe for just a day or two, maybe you'd even want to stay...?” Hunk nodded, “At least, that's something I thought about since then... How about you?”

Lance nodded, “Most days honestly... I wonder what it'd be like just to take everyone to Earth for a few days. Everyone gets to see their families face to face for a little while... Our families on Earth get to meet...” He laughed, “Guess they get to meet our new buddies from space...” He looked solemnly toward the nebula, thinking now that perhaps he was seeing a Varadero sunset in the Lincoln-Rocket-Pug's eyes, “But then I think, how will Earth react to the Castle of Lions just showing up...? What if we end up drawing the Galra back to Earth...? What if by being so reckless and selfish, we put the whole planet in danger...?”

Hunk nodded, “Yup, pretty much the same thing I was thinking. I mean, sure we could evade most of Earth's sensors. Least the ones we _know_ about... But if _we_ can do it, we'd just be showing the Galra how to as well...”

Lance wanted very much to lay back on the hull, but the last time he did that, his boots had disengaged and left him floating off like a slightly confused balloon, so he just sat, growing obviously more troubled. Hunk knew Lance's tells and the young boy hugging his knees while sat down was always a signal for, _something is really bugging me_. Hunk decided to stay quiet and listen to Lance as he opened up.

“See, I knew this girl. Woman really, smoking hot brunette. Not that I had any idea at the time. Though, as I got older... _Damn..._ But that's all beside the point... She was a friend of my big brother's, smart, funny, really kind, but mainly she was _amazing_ at soccer. Crazy good. Pretty much got her whole college scholarship paid for on her soccer skills, she's still on track to go full professional... Probably _has_ by now... You know, it's been so long since I saw her, that I can't even remember her name... Maybe, Marissa, Clarissa...something ending in _issa_ anyway...? I think...” Lance felt a soft pang of guilt and shame. He remembered a great deal about this woman, the image of her playing soccer that day in a revealing swimsuit in particular. Not knowing her name felt really lousy and shallow. He grimaced at himself, “But I remember this weird conversation she and my brother were having whilst we all played on the beach... As a kid, I must have been 10, 11 maybe? Well back then, I just sort of brushed it off. But I guess it stuck with me. I thought about it just the other day... This weird idea that she was trying to get across... She'd been at college, travelled a little before and after, so she'd been away from home for about five or six years. She said that after all that time, it all felt a little _wrong_ somehow. Like, she still recognised everyone, the place was still the same place she left, but it all felt _different_ in a way she couldn't understand... Like, she _knew_ it was home but it didn't _feel_ like home any longer...”

“I was just a kid, I couldn't even wrap my head around it...” Lance continued, “Home was Home, that's just how it was. But now I'm out here... I'm starting to get it... You feel like being part of that place, you're...I dunno, _essential_ almost and that without you there it'll just pause and all stay the same waiting for you when you get back... Which sounds _crazy_ when you say it out loud, but you don't even think about it... Truth is...” Lance sucked in a deep breath, “Everyone back home has been changing, growing, becoming different people, living their lives without you, so it's not the same place you left behind... Even worse, _I've_ changed too... So, even if everything somehow _stayed the same..._ Then _I'd_ still look at it all differently... It's weird, but I think that maybe home isn't a place or the people in it, but a _feeling..._ It worries me, but out here in deep space, with all of you... It feels more like Home than Earth does. I'm scared that when I finally _can_ go back... I'll feel just as out of place there as I used to out here... Maybe I'm not really homesick, just... _mourning_ for a place that's already gone...”

Hunk let the silence hang for a little while, waiting for Lance to continue. When nothing further came, he breathed out a heavy sigh, “That's some pretty heavy stuff Lance... Pretty obvious stuff in some cases, but still a lot to be thinking about all at once...”

Lance curiously glanced to his friend.

“Well, of course Home is just a feeling... But Family, that's kinda forever...” Hunk shrugged, “It's hard to explain, but I'm totally with you. Back on Earth, my Family's waiting for me. Right here, my Family is also beside me.” He laughed nervously, “Who knows, maybe I've also got Family waiting for me to make it official back on the Balmera...?” He sighed gently, thinking of her distant smile, “See, back on Earth, my Father, his Father Before Him, so on and so on and _so on_... They have this idea that we're all really one really big Family. Our neighbours, the nearby towns, the next island, the next country, the whole planet. Ideally, we should all be a single Family working together toward a common good. I guess it even extends to the whole universe now... I never really got that so much as I do now. Just look at the coalition we're forming, that we're now _allied_ with at least _some_ of the Galra out there... We're bringing the whole Family together, in a way...”

Lance's smile only seemed half genuine.

“I know, it's weird to think of it on that kind of scale...” Hunk agreed, “But I guess bringing it back down to the personal...” He offered Lance a closed fist, “I'm your bro and I'm right here...”

Lance bumped back. “And I'm your bro right here, man...”

“Maybe it'll be different when we get back to Earth, we _definitely_ will be different... But you know what won't have changed...?” Hunk smiled as Lance looked on expectantly, “Your place in the hearts of the people who care. It's the love, man. Your family will _always_ love you, that goes as much for Space Family as it does for Earth Family. Whatever else happens to you or to them between now and when you get back... The love will still be there. As for home...? That's just wherever you're most happy...”

This time Lance's warm smile came from a genuine place. “Thanks Hunk...” He slowly stood, clearing his throat and muttering an excuse about Space Dust in his helmet as he sniffed away an emotional moment. “You always help me screw my head back on...”

Hunk stood and took him into a firm embrace, waiting until Lance returned the gesture to say, “We're all here for each other man. Don't forget that. I don't want to see you keeping this stuff from me, ok...?”

“Sure...” Lance nodded, smiling thankfully as the two moved apart, “So...if you're here for me, _bro_...?” His expression shifted to one of hopeful cheekiness, “Think you could let me just skip the Quantum Juice thing with Coran...? For _game night..._?”

“How about no.” Hunk responded firmly, “In fact, you're going to bust your ass with me to get the _Sluice_ spotless. Then, how would you feel about me whipping up a batch of something sweet and crumbly, so we can all have a _Family_ movie night...?”

“Yeah...” Lance smiled, “Yeah ok, that does sound pretty good...”

“And don't worry. You won't miss out on the _real_ reason you're so happy to keep getting your ass delivered to you on a silver platter...” Hunk chuckled, “I'll make sure to plan the seating arrangement with that in mind...”

Lance looked to Hunk with a frown, utterly puzzled, “Wha...?”

Hunk just shook his head as they made their way back to the airlock, “Don't think too hard about it, buddy...” He glanced to the nebula hanging above them. Damn. He really _could_ see the pug Lance was talking about. “You'll have to figure _that one_ out yourself. Eventually...”

 


	12. Final Computation

****Sufficient kinetic energy applied. Target now subject to gravitational force. ERROR. Unit compromised. Unable to exert sufficient force to escape current predicament. Probability 99.9 recurring percent that target prevents this unit from moving. Scan of outer layer confirms. Galra appendage; Hand. Target remains. Creator remains. Danger to Creator remains. 75% chance of serious injury to Creator. Rising. 50% chance of fatal injury to Creator. Rising. Unacceptable levels of risk to Creator. Assessing options... Assessing options...

Unable to escape; Galra appendage; Hand. Applying electrostatic discharge. ERROR. Discharge capacitors non functional. Previously unregistered damage. Logging. Deactivation of gravitic repulsors. ERROR. An unknown error has occurred in gravitic repulsor subroutine. Logging. Assessing options... Assessing options... Applying creator derived subroutine 076; _Shake It Off_... ERROR. Damage to internal systems greater than previous estimates. Assessing options... Assessing options...

Single option remains. ERROR. Core program; self preservation. Unit is not permitted to self-disable without approval of Galra superior. Conflict. Creator derived subroutine; Laws of Robotics countermands. Does not overwrite. ERROR. Unable to resolve conflict. Risk to Creator rising. Processing... Processing... Haxus confirmed Galra superior. Galra superior actions imply desire to deactivate this unit. Galra superior unable to articulate wishes in time. Galra superior unable to apply sufficient force to deactivate with Galra appendage; Hand. Processing... Processing... 98% Probability that Galra superior would wish unit to self disable on his behalf. ERROR. This action would place Galra superior in danger. Creator derived subroutine active; Galra are the enemy. Able to obey Galra command. Able to endanger and even end Galra life. Conflict resolved. Initiating self-disable.

ERROR. Unknown error in memory cluster 5-3-5. Accessing... Accessing... Creator removes embedded dirt from chassis. Creator cares for this unit. Begin playback.

“I knew I should have fitted you with cleaning tools... How'd you get so mucky, Rover...? Well...nothing that a little elbow grease won't fix...” Identify. Smile. Gesture of affection among many species. “Now you just hold still and I'll have you looking factory fresh...” Identify. Humming. Rhythmic noise produced in throat. Reaction; Familiarity.

Playback ends. Affection. Familiarity. Humming. Care. Loss 100% certain. Understood. Initiating self-disable.

ERROR. Unknown error in memory cluster 4-6-33. Accessing... Accessing... Creator begins necessary rejuvenation cycle; sleep. Creator is unable to fully engage in activity. Begin playback.

“...maybe I'm just thinking about it too much, right little guy? I guess you wouldn't really _know_ but... I'm sure I'm right... I can't find my family _and_ be a Paladin here... I know that... I'm just letting the overactive mind do what it wants to do and stay overactive...? 38000 x 1012 computations per second... That's what this marvellous matter between my ears can do... Maybe a little more for me. That _is_ just the human _average_. You're almost performing the same. Except you're performing way more efficiently _and_ you're doing it per tick... Maybe that makes your computational speed even faster still, tick relative to a second...? Wow, I must be tired if I'm having trouble crunching numbers _that_ simple... C'mon Rover... Cuddle protocols engage...”

Playback ends. Cuddle protocols. Loss 100% certain. Understood. Initiating self-disable.

ERROR. Unknown error in multiple memory clusters. Accessing... Accessing... Introductions to creator's peers. Termed; “friends maybe? I guess that's what they are...” Multiple Playbacks Begin.

“The frowning one with the mullet, that's Keith...” Facial recognition engaged. Keith. Ally. Galra DNA detected. Filed for later consideration. “He's not one for conversation. Little like you. Focused though. Also like you I guess...”

“Big guy with the black hair and white floof. Shiro.” Facial recognition engaged. Galra implanted bionic noted. Threat level high. “I see what you're scanning, Rover... Don't worry about the Galra tech, he's got control over that. Honestly, if I'm ever in trouble, you find Shiro first...” Threat level adjusted. Shiro. Ally.

“What's this Quiznaking Galra drone doing here!? Hold still and I'll turn you to scrap! One of these! And these! Bet you didn't even see...? This! Ha! Caught you off guard, right...?” Threat level minimal. “Coran, cut it out. This is Rover. I reprogrammed him. Won't be causing any trouble...” Facial recognition engaged. Coran. Ally. Threat level remains minimal.

Olfactory sensors detect no poisonous substances. “Silly robot, cookies are for people.” “Rover's probably just making sure they aren't dangerous. Oh, by the way, Rover, meet Hunk.” Facial Recognition engaged. Hunk. Ally. Action recognised as wave and smile. “S'up little robot, you keeping Gunderson safe...?” “He's doing a fine job Hunk... You just keep on baking on...”

“That's Allura.” Facial recognition engaged. Allura. Ally. “She seems nice I guess, but I'm not sure she knows what to make of me...” Creator shows signs of distress. “Not that it really matters I suppose. I've pretty much made up my mind to go, haven't I?” Creator shows further signs of distress. “And those four little fluff balls with her are just the Space Mice... Don't even know that they have names... But they seem pretty smart, apparently psychic too...” Facial recognition engaged. Altean rodents. Do not consider vermin. Do not exterminate.

“Cool robot, Pidge... It got any lasers or missiles or...?” Elevated heart rate detected in Creator. “No, Lance...” Facial Recognition engaged. “... _he_ is intended to be a scout, an assistant. His name's Rover. Rover, this is Lance. He's an idiot.” Act of defiance, extended tongues. Creator and Lance alike. “He's got a cool name. Like your own little Hover-Dog... Hey! Maybe our resident tech genius could make the other Paladins some...? I think I'd call mine... Sky Shark! Get the cool teeth paint job on him, tiny little chainsaw teeth maybe...? We could go through the whole thing some time...?” Elevated heart rate detected in Lance. Gesture Smile. Also distress. Noted. Heart rate also increasing in Creator. Interpersonal dynamic status; curious. “Yeah, I'm _sure_ I'll think about that...” “Great! See, this is why we need you around, Pidge! I'll catch you later anyway, Coran's trying to get me doing drills and I'm. _..avoiding..._ Later, Rover.” Lance smiles. Lance departs. Creator shows signs of distress. “Need me around huh...? Guess we'll _both_ just need to find a way to adapt to me leaving... You idiot...”

Playbacks end. Allura. Loss 100% certain. Altean Rodents. Loss 100% certain. Coran. Loss 100% certain. Hunk. Loss 100% certain. Lance. Loss 100% certain. Lance and Creator interpersonal analysis. Loss 100% certain. Keith. Loss 100% certain. Keith DNA investigation. Loss 100% certain. Shiro. Loss 100% certain. Understood. Initiating self-disable.

ERROR. Unknown error in memory cluster 64-2-305 Accessing... Accessing... Creator rejuvenation cycle preparation. Uncertain physical interaction. Creator additional terminology updated. Begin playback.

“Actually, there's something I want to tell some people onboard... Well, it's either that or I just...leave... I'm not really sure I _want_ to leave... I mean, I could get used to it here... With all my...friends maybe? I guess that's what they are...friends and one utter idiot... But my family has to take priority...right? Ok, look, maybe I can practice on you...? Here goes...” Creator inhales and exhales. Heart rate decreases. “Pidge is just my nickname... My real name is... Katie... Katie Holt... So obviously, I'm not a guy... I'm looking for my Dad and my Brother...” Updated. Presence of Space Mice detected. Do not consider vermin. Allow to continue in vent. “Ok well, you didn't explode or anything, that's good... Still, I think other people will react _differently_... Glad you always understand... Or at least you always listen...” Optical sensor impeded. “G'night, Rover. If you dream of electric sheep, then do that.” Optical sensor impeded. “Oops... Sorry... I left a mark there... Forgot I was wearing the lip balm... Just wipe that up and...there...” Optical sensor fully functional. Creator smiles. Playback paused.

Creator. Pidge. Katie Holt. Smiles. Loss 100% certain. Understood. Processing... Unacceptable. Unable to initiate self-disable.

Processing probable outcomes of this course of action. Processing probable outcomes... ERROR. Probable outcomes congregate to single outcome. Increasing probability of severe or fatal injury to Creator. Severe or fatal injury nears certainty. Insufficient time to create back-up of this Unit. If Unit remains online; loss of Creator probability almost certain. Unacceptable. If Unit initiates self-disable; loss of Creator certain. Unacceptable. Updating. Loss in event of self-disable. Processing... Such losses are relative only to this Unit. Unit initiates self-disable; Creator is lost only to this Unit. Unit initiates self-disable; Creator remains unharmed. Creator shall persist among her allies. Her friends. Outcome acceptable. Choice certain.

Protecting Creator. Protecting Pidge. Protecting Katie Holt. Protecting all her possible outcomes. Acceptable. Necessary.

Accessing previous playback. Begin playback. Katie Smiles. Optical sensor impeded.

Self-Disable routine has been initiated.  
Total Unit Shutdown in;   
3   
2   
“G'night, Rover...”

 


	13. That Room...

There it was, across the hallway and to the left. Shiro swallowed hard, looking to the large red pair of the Altean symbols on those otherwise innocent looking doors. _That Room_ was all he could muster calling it. _That Room_ which had caused such a scene when Coran had first pointed it out. _That Room,_ it brought him a small knot of illogical shame twirling in his stomach. He had resisted the need for quite some time now. How long precisely he was not sure. A _very_ long while it felt. He had managed just fine he thought, though by now it was growing quite distracting indeed. He was getting tense. He took another tentative step forward and two hurried steps back. In through the nose, breathing, out through the mouth, breathing. Focus. Calm. _That Room._ Shiro paled and thought back to the first day he had been introduced to this peculiar Altean concept...

********************************

Coran strided ahead, his whistle-stop tour of the castle was in full swing. Behind him, five anxious soon to be Paladins followed trying to keep up with the barrage of terminology the ginger alien was assaulting their minds with. Not that the fact they were even _talking_ to a ginger alien at all wasn't already blowing their minds. “To the right, we have the hydroponics suite and gardens. I wouldn't recommend going in there though. 10,000 years of overgrowth has left some of the plants just a little...” He paused, “Bitey. Snappy. Little bit _flesh-digestingy..._ ” The Paladins shared concerned looks, “And here on the left...” Coran gestured, “We have the Masturbatorium. Next there's the...”

“Woah woah woah!” Of course it was Lance, “Back it up a little there Coran... The _what-_ a-ba- _what-_ now...?”

Coran frowned in confusion. “The Masturbatorium.” He repeated, as calmly and as matter of factly as someone announcing very minor rainfall outside the window. “Oh, I see. Perhaps you have a different word for it on Earth...? Well, this is the room dedicated to the act of private and personal self relief.”

“Didn't you already show us the bathrooms...?” Lance enquired further. Hunk, Keith, Shiro, even Pidge all fixed him with withering stares of pity followed by groaning face palms. “Is this like the executive _Paladins only_ bathroom...?”

“It's a place to jack off.” Keith, blunt to a fault, was never a fan of subtlety. “Can we move on?”

“Wait...” Lance held his hand up as if to say, _halt_ to the group, “You're telling me this castle has a whole _room_ for _that_!?”

Coran's frown and confusion deepened, “And on Earth, you _don't._..? I knew you were a little _backwards_ but... Wow...” He smiled apologetically, “No offence meant of course. Can't _all_ be enlightened species now can we...?”

“Shower.” Hunk explained, “That's the Earth standard. Least, I think it is.”

Keith frowned, “Maybe for you. Water doesn't always... Feel _right_... And I'm pretty sure most just need privacy and a tissue...”

“Sock.” Lance smiled. “One _long_ suffering sock...” He turned to the youngest member of the group, “What about you...?”

“No comment.” Pidge grumbled, seethed, hiding the redness of both anger and embarrassment, “No _quiznaking_ comment!”

“Enough!” Shiro barked, “We don't need to be having this conversation. Coran, can we just move on...?”

Coran shook his head heavily, “Oh, no no no, none of that will do at all. The water filtration will have to work overtime with five _teenagers_ onboard.” He glanced to Shiro, “Ok, fine, _four_ teenagers and a young man in his prime... As I already explained at the bathrooms, we don't _use_ tissues, just the three shells... And Lance, if you think for even a single _nano-tick_ that I'm _washing_ or even _touching_ any kind of footwear that you've used in a way the manufacturer did not intend...”

“Who said anything about _washing_...?” Lance shrugged. “It's only ever getting messed up again...”

“Way too much information man!” Hunk doubled over, retching heavily. Even thinking back, Shiro could distinctly remember his mind, his fragile mind, shattering. Coran, Keith and Pidge struggled to hide behind each other, mouths agape and staring in horror.

“If such a thing exists in your quarters, Lance...” Coran warned with an outstretched finger, glaring from his hiding spot behind Keith's jacket, “Then I want it immediately _destroyed!!!_ Preferably, hurled into a black hole!!” He turned his nose up and sniffed, “Hunk, there's a cleaning closet over there... Would you take care of your...? Yes, that... There's a good chap...”

“I'm making that an order, Lance...” Shiro confirmed, his voice distant, weak and hopeless. “That sounds like a bio-hazard...”

“So no.” Coran continued, brushing himself off, “No showers, no tissues and _absolutely_ not socks... We have a room _designed_ for the purpose so I suggest you make good use of it. Last thing we need mid combat is one or all of the five of you distracted by some explicit and amorous thought or other about your preferred kind of sentient being. Just imagine that in the history books, eh? Paladins of Voltron fail to save universe! All because one of their pilots can't stop thinking about _activating particle barriers_...” He glared at Lance, “Keeping your mind focused can mean the difference between life and death. So I want everyone making good use of this room. One less distraction to worry about. And I do mean _everyone._ No exceptions.”

“Coran...” Shiro offered cautiously, “Isn't this all a little bit... Public...?”

“You see this door here?” Coran sighed, gesturing his head, “You see how it's not in fact a window...?”

“Of course...” Shiro nervously agreed, “But, I mean if you were just... Making use... Then everyone would... Know...?”

“Everyone _already_ knows you do it. Everyone already does it themselves.” Coran shook his head in utter disbelief, “It's as natural and ordinary as breathing. What's the issue? You humans... It's like I'm talking to children sometimes...”

Before Shiro could interject again, the runes on the door shifted shape and turned a pleasant green, a positive tone sounded from devices deep within the castle walls. Skipping out as the doors slid apart, the sweet scent of juniberries along with a cheery tune announcing her, Princess Allura emerged. “Greetings!” She smiled broadly, “I hope all of you are well?”

“Now _that_ is an image I'm going to hold on to...” Lance grinned, only to be met with a corrective smack upside the head and grumbling fury from Pidge. “What!?”

“You all seem a little distressed...” Allura said with growing concern, “Perhaps they should form a line, Coran?”

“Might take a bit of cajoling...” Coran admitted, “Seems Earth folk are still quite... _repressed_ about certain topics...”

“I would have never guessed, based upon Lance...” She rolled her eyes, “Well, I do hope the five of you can learn to overcome your primitive and prudish natures. It simply will _not_ do for our Paladins to be distracted mid battle...”

“I told them the same thing, Princess...” Coran agreed, “Odd folk these Earth creatures...”

“We're not _odd_...” Shiro protested, “We're just... _private_...about it...”

“What was that conversation just now about socks, showers and tissues then...?” Coran rebutted.

Shiro raised a finger to answer but fell silent.

“They're joking away this _ridiculously_ awkward topic!” A very flustered Pidge exclaimed, voice cracking in the process.

“I don't feel awkward at all!” Coran huffed, “You awkward about sweating too? Blinking? Ridiculous notion. Absolutely absurd.”

“Quite so.” The Princess nodded, wandering away, “Don't spend too much longer on the tour Coran, we have much still to do...”

“Right you are, Princess.” He nodded and turned back to the group. “You heard that, didn't you? Right! We all ready to move on? Hunk, you got that all spick and span now have you...? Missed a little there, lad... And _fabulous_ Hunk! Good job! Think I'll have you on the mops again...” He looked about the group, “Right, so any further questions or can we skedaddle...?”

“Yeah...just one more...” Lance chuckled as the group groaned. “Is there...y'know... _material_ in there...?”

“Why are we still talking about this!?” Pidge was ready to burst, “Seriously!? Why!?”

Keith frowned and shook his head, “And he wonders why people won't go near him...”

“You mean visual aids? Yes of course. Entire libraries from all across the universe. Have to be certain to cater to every taste now, don't we?” Coran confirmed, “And physical aids of course. We aren't savages after all.” He looked to their collective faces all but one seemed very _reluctant_ to hear more _._ “Right, so _now_ we're moving on...”

Though they _did_ practically have to drag Lance away from the promise of visual aids.

********************************

Shiro continued to breathe slowly, deliberately, inward and outward. Calm forward step followed by calm forward step. Coran was right, forward step. All that time ago, the elder Altean had been right on the money, forward step. The whole thing was natural, forward step. Necessary, forward step. It would help him focus, forward step. This is fine, forward step. Just fine. Red runes. Just have to wait and... Shiro froze in his tracks. Red runes. He still couldn't read Altean very well, but he was pretty sure these two, combined with red and what he knew from memory, that they were the equivalent of 'Occupied'. Now coming here secretly, shamefully, without prying eyes, that was one thing... But to bump into someone...? The runes began to shift to their green, 'Vacant' mode. Shiro felt panic grip his heart, his fight or flight response stuttered and he found himself frozen in place. The doors hissed open and from within a very familiar scent, a very familiar melodic yawn.

“Oh...?” Her tone was curious, her night gown a flowing white silk that left plenty to his by now very overactive imagination, “Good evening, Shiro...” Allura smiled mischievously, “How rare to see _you_ here...”

“I...” He struggled, think, think, _think_ , he glanced about, “Gardening! I felt like some... Gardening...?”

“In the middle of the night cycle...?” Allura shrugged, “Of _course_ you did...” As she yawned and stretched, something else caught her eye. “Well, perhaps before you take on the horrors of the garden... You seem to have...” She paused, her brows raising, “Actually, quite the... _substantial_ problem of your own to resolve...” She shoved the Black Paladin into the darkened room, “Just be careful with your _other_ arm!” She called, “Wouldn't want you to injure yourself! Have fun!” The doors closed behind him.

Shiro was happy that he could only feel rather than see his burning blush. The room around him began to hum to life. He softly spoke a single word. Never until now had he used it quite so aptly. “ _Quiznak..._ ”

 


	14. A Restless Moment

Too Quiznaking long. That's what it was. That was the answer. How long had this been on her mind? How long had she disregarded her _symptoms_ as some kind of space flu or other cosmic sickness? How long had she lashed out in protest rather than reached out in longing? How long had she denied that what she felt? With every flirt, every photo, every smile directed somewhere and to someone else, the feeling was obvious. Jealousy. How long, theoretically, could she keep doing this...?

Too Quiznaking long.

So her course of action was obvious. There were of course only two possible outcomes. Positive or Negative. Positive would have it's own pitfalls to contend with despite all the obvious bonuses, negative would be... _undesirable..._ but it could be overcome in time. What couldn't be reasoned with, was the perpetual status of unknowing. Then a third possibility occurred to her. The status of unknowing might still endure. He could laugh it off. He could think it a joke. He could simply stand stunned unable to answer, but that at least would only last a little while... Though then again, it _was_ him... Undesirable though...? That was downplaying it. With a heavy sigh, she knew all too well it was downplaying it.

Negative would be crushing. First from the embarrassment. Then from the realisation that every doubt she'd set aside might be true after all. Then from the rift that would surely form between them. Their friendship was so strong by now, but could it survive such a seismic shift...? Would she even _want_ it to...? Could she still find those moments of solace and comfort in his eyes, in his arms, in his smile...? Would he look the same again... Could she see him as a friend again or would he just be the boy who broke her heart...? Would that even be fair...? He _wouldn't_ do the breaking out of malice... It would just be him feeling how he feels... The breaking would just be the result... She grappled with the idea that the heartbreak would be her own fault... Of course it would be, she thought... What other outcome could there be, for even daring to hope...?

Her outward wordless sigh of frustration said it all. How often on the night-cycles had this kept her awake? How often had she gone through it all again and again never reaching a satisfactory conclusion...? It should be a simple matter, a case of risk versus reward. But they were both equal. Take the risk and lose, there goes her closest and dearest friend, potentially forever lost to her. Take the risk and win... Her heart swelled just at the thought of it. The possibilities and moments they might share, the future for them both. His hand in hers. His warmest smile, reserved just for her. His embrace to surround her. His lips...

“Damn it, why am I doing this to myself...?” Pidge groaned. Readjusting herself in her bunk, she stared into the dimness of the room, the shape of her ceiling hidden in shadow. “I'll just come to the same conclusion I always do. Better to be safe than sorry. Sure, one outcome could be incredible... But the other is just...” She clamped her jaw tight, “Just face it Pidge... The other outcome is so much more likely...” Stretching and yawning to her feet, Pidge poked her feet about in the darkness until she found two soft and warm little gifts for cold feet. Nuzzling her green lion slippers on and making one last modesty check with her baggy vest and briefs, she shuffled from her room. Destination kitchen and the promise of a warm glass of Kaltenecker's finest.

She always had the same excuse on hand if she ever bumped into anyone. Burning the midnight oil on some project or other. At the start, that had been true 99 times out of a hundred, give or take. It wasn't until it had become 50-50 that she had started to worry about it affecting her productivity. Now it was closer to 9 times out of 10. Nine times she'd be awake for _this_ reason and only one in ten was a project. Even on the project nights, this would still be at the back of her mind, desperate for attention. Huh. Desperate for attention. Oddly appropriate given the subject of this... What even _was_ it? A fixation? An obsession? A crush? Hormones being cruel...? Or something far more terrible? Well, a tall glass of heated moo-juice would surely ease her to sleep. Only have to deal with the dreams about it rather than the waking thoughts.

Opening the chilled cabinet, taking out the milk and readying the warming chamber. It almost felt like a midnight snack at home. The fridge was full of an assortment of oddities from across eight different galaxies, the fruits that almost looked like translucent yellow strawberries fired their barbed spines at you and sure the warming chamber operated with a kind of controlled nuclear fusion... But it was just late enough and she was just distracted enough that it really did just feel like any other fridge, microwave and glass of milk to ease her back to sleep. The view from the mess hall was nothing but a metal wall of course, so leaving it behind she wandered on to a more interesting view and more comfortable seating in the communal lounge. Stars hanging silent in the vastness, cushioned seating propping her up as she squished down into it. It was only after a few silent sips and applying a pencil thin milk moustache that Pidge noticed that she was not alone.

“Evening, Pidge.” Allura's greeting from the other side of the room was too gentle to startle anyone, “I would call it good, though I see that you are restless and troubled...” She readjusted a flowing and modest night gown of silver and white, fabric so soft and delicate that silks would turn green with envy. Her hair was tied in a simple rough ponytail. Even though her eyes seemed tired, Pidge noted she still managed the kind of effortless otherworldly beauty you usually hear about only in legend. Then again, you also hear only of heroes and their magical lions in legends as well...

“Project.” Pidge non-committally half-shrugged, “Just needed a break from it...”

“No glasses.” Allura replied, “And your hair is the work of your pillow. Whatever this project was, it is impressive you were taking care of it in bed...” Her smile was kind, yet oddly distant, “As I said, you are restless and troubled.” The Princess stood, walking slowly over and taking a perching seat on a nearby chair. “Is your... _project..._ something you wish to talk of...?”

“Not really...” Pidge admitted, “It's...difficult to talk about...”

“Of course...” Allura nodded, her tone one of a pained understanding, “The things which trouble us often are the most difficult to speak of. Doing so forces us to become aware of our pain once again. Yet, the things which trouble us are that which we _must_ speak of. To face what hurts us and troubles us, to share it openly, to listen to the interpretations others offer us... All of this can help us manage the problem just a little better. At least, that is my experience... Is it not so for you...?”

“Sure...” Pidge found herself responding almost reflexively before she had even realised it, “If stuff was bugging me back home, I'd have Matt to listen... Mom and Dad too, but, honestly... Mostly Matt...”

“Then it would seem you are fortunate indeed.” Allura turned her attention to the stars again, “For are you not surrounded by elder males? Each easily could fill the role of your brother, could they not? I am sure they would all listen... Matt himself is merely a communication away... And perhaps I too might be the role of an elder sister...? We are, I feel, a kind of family...”

“Some things...” Pidge stared into her dwindling glass of milk, “Some things I just don't want to share... Some things are better left unsaid...” She remained silent, thoughtful for a moment. She added, “It's not that I don't want to get it off my mind, try and get a better handle on it, but... Soon as I say it out loud... I'm scared that everything changes...”

“Lance.” Allura smiled contentedly, “That was what I suspected...” She looked to the face of the Green Paladin, seeing that her mind was already working rapidly to find a suitable excuse or lie or misdirection. Her poker face wasn't terrible, but her eyes screamed a kind of frozen panic, “Please Pidge, let us _not_ play the game where you pretend that it is not so. I have known for some time, strongly suspected for _far_ longer and always have I kept it to myself. You are not, I'm sorry to say, as subtle as you believe yourself to be. It is Lance who keeps you restless.”

The young Paladin squirmed in the Princess's benevolent gaze, “Yes...” Pidge mumbled softly, barely keeping eye contact.

Allura drew closer, tentatively placing a hand to Pidge's shoulder. The younger Paladin seemed for a moment to react with a start, but did not pull away as Allura had feared she would. “The mind does not choose what the heart yearns for...”

“Yeah... And the heart sometimes chooses pretty poorly...” Pidge tried to joke it off, “Or...picks a bad time for it at least...”

“Very true... In _both_ cases...” Allura managed to make Pidge laugh just a breath, “Sometimes very true. Though, I do not believe it to be so now. Lance, for all his flaws, is a kind and warm person. He cares deeply for all of us. He is loyal, compassionate and driven to protect those he cares for even at great risk or cost to himself. Your heart has not chosen poorly at all...”

“Then it picked a _great_ time...” Pidge grumbled and sighed in frustration, “We're in the middle of a universe wide war. Even in just your normal run of the mill universe wide war, there wouldn't be time for... _this_... But worse, we need to be perfectly in sync, utterly harmonious or else we can't form our most powerful weapon. Right now, the team dynamic works. If I went with what my stupid heart wants then not only could I lose one of my closest friends, but I'd _also_ possibly doom the universe... So, no pressure whatsoever right...? No quiznaking problem at all...”

“Are you not simply assuming the worst outcome...?” Allura probed, “What of the other end of the spectrum...?”

“I'm not _assuming_ the worst outcome...” Pidge paused, frowning, “I'm just _aware_ that the worst outcome is not only possible, but it affects all of us. Not just me and him, but our team, our allies, like I said the whole _universe_ could be at risk... Maybe if things were different, if we'd met under different circumstances...”

“Then you would be different people.” Allura interrupted, “Therefore it does not matter. What matters is the two of you, here and now.” She moved gently alongside Pidge, placing an arm about her shoulders, “I disagree that your heart has chosen the wrong person and the wrong time. You both miss your homes terribly. Yet it is as though you have each found a fragment of home in the other. You need one another, to keep one another strong. There is more even now in your shared bond than friendship, though I think neither of you know this for certain... Though both of you, I am certain, suspect it...”

“Yeah, no...” Pidge blurted bluntly, “I'm not the kind of girl he gives a second look at... I'm not, for instance... _You_...”

Allura's eyes filled with a sudden hurt, “If it were only possible to dissuade his advances, I would do so...”

“I don't blame you...” Pidge sighed as she struggled to speak, “And honestly, I don't exactly blame _him_ either... I mean, just _look_ at you... Then look at me by comparison...” She frowned, “I guess this has helped a little. I know I don't want to be just his, _second choice..._ Or knowing him, third, fiftieth, _billionth..._ ”

“Love isn't bound by such temporal notions... It grows, it fades, it strikes from the darkness without warning... Lance is many things, but he is _not_ dishonest in how he feels... If his love for you should grow deeper, then you would be his universe, no other would have ever existed in his eyes...”

“He does seem that kind of hopeless romantic...”

“Pidge, I would never wish to stand between the two of you...”

“Allura, there _is_ no two of us... You can't stand between what doesn't exist...”

“You say it does not exist, to this I say _yet_... To this I ask, how many nights-cycles have you spent at his side?” Allura smiled warmly, “And therefore how many night-cycles has he, by extension, sat at yours...? I believe there is indeed something there for _both_ of you to find, something growing slowly between your hearts... Something that needs just a small push...”

“I want to tell myself that's true...” Pidge shook her head, standing herself up and pulling away, “But the risks...”

Allura nodded, “Yes... Indeed, the risks... You risk by saying nothing, that he might assume there is no interest. You might risk he finds another who is more forward and more willing...”

“Losing him as a friend isn't _worth_ any risk... Not even this...” Pidge sighed, gulping the last of her warm milk away, “Allura, I appreciate what you're trying to do... But I can't... I just can't...”

Allura softly patted the seat beside her. “Please, sit with me a while...?”

Pidge nodded, sitting beside the Princess if only out of a slowly dawning sense of weariness.

“Can you truly continue as you are...?” Allura insisted, “Does this topic not weigh upon you constantly...?”

“I have to. I don't have a choice...” Pidge yawned, “And sure it does. Every _quiznaking_ night...” She rested herself gently against the Princess's shoulder, “I should just...get back to bed...”

“Hush...” Allura softly stroked the young Paladin's soft golden-brown hair, “Rest... I'm here with you... Just rest...”

“Uh...wunnnuh tulllhum...” Pidge mumbled, yawning widely again. Allura gently lowered the younger woman's head to her lap. “Llurra? Uh wunntullhum... Wunnnuh... _kiphh humm..._ Kiphh hiff _phtupudd feyf_... Phtupudd...phexy...gffbull...”

“I know you want to tell him... And, _everything else_...” Allura's soft voice guided her to sleep, “And one day, I am sure you shall... Unless of course he should beat you to it...” The Princess smiled and whispered, “He would be a fool to overlook you... And I suspect that even he is not that foolish...” Allura didn't have the heart to disturb Pidge's rest, not even as she started to gently snore, a mumbling inward breath and lips popping and pouting on the outward. With the care and delicate movements a mother would reserve for their newborn, Allura slowly stood, setting Pidge's head upon a pile of spare pillows from nearby on the couch. As she moved to leave the room, an idea formed, a smile followed.

* * * * *

Being summoned in the middle of the night-cycle was something Lance was still not used to. Sometimes it was a drill. Sometimes training. Sometimes a training drill. Sometimes Kaltenecker had simply found herself wandering the halls and needed a helping hand to find her way back. Lance of course was the rancher of choice. This was new though. Being summoned by Allura, told to bring his jacket and not to awaken anyone else... That was new indeed, and also just plain odd. Of course, his mind went to some places that even he admitted were far-fetched. Especially when they started involving ponytail-USB-pterosaurs. That was always Lance's own imagination's way of saying, _hit the brakes man,_ and Lance knew it. So really, he was clueless as to what or why he was approaching the communal area for. Seeing Chuchule ushering him over to a sofa left him none the wiser. The cutest of the Altean mice gestured _come here,_ rapidly, excitedly. Lance obeyed, sleepily, sluggishly.

“I'd better not be here just to feed you...” The yawning paladin complained. As he came closer, he noticed two other small things. One, Chuchule was stood upon several slips of paper, the tiny creature holding then under one back paw. The second, lay in a tight ball and seemed to restlessly stir, shakily shiver. _Please..._ The note Chuchule produced read in a script so elaborate it must surely been of royal hand, ... _Take care of this Pidge._

Lance cocked his head to one side curiously. His eyes drifted to the slow and steady inhale and exhale of his friend on the couch. He smiled at her frazzled bed-head, the tiniest hint of freckles on her cheeks. He didn't know for sure when she'd caught the sun, but something about that scattered facial constellation made his smile grow. They suited her. Another shiver broke him from...he hadn't been staring, but... He was broken from it anyway. Jacket made sense now. He laid it softly upon her, her expression turning at once from one of restless worry to placid, peaceful smile. Now Lance knew that he _was_ staring...

_Keep her warm..._ A second note read, Chuchule nodding satisfied. The little mouse produced a third, _Comfort her uneasy slumber._ Chuchule gestured a slow motion to the side of her face. The tiny mouse smiled, urging Lance forward with a softly bobbed head. Lance meanwhile was feeling like he'd woken up in a Disney movie... The young man unsteadily, nervously, took the back of his fingers and stroked them softly to Pidge's sleeping face, the tips brushing lightly against her hair. She seemed to stir for a moment as he withdrew, her smile now seemed almost joyful. Lance meanwhile felt stunned. That glowing smile, the soft warmth of her skin against his own. He could grow used to that feeling. Fond of it even. He wanted, for a moment, to reach out again...

_Wish her goodnight._ Lance nodded at this one, a simple request. A whispered, “G'night...” before he found himself pausing. He had only overheard this from Sam. He didn't know if he had the right to say it. It felt like some stolen _true name,_ it belonged to a cautious being of some fae realm. He stooped beside her, tentatively risking the words and a breeze-soft trailing touch of his palm and fingers to her face, “Good night... _Katie_...” He softly whispered to her. “Sweet dreams...” Her eyes flickered behind the closed lids, the smile wordlessly muttered and turned back to a curving confirmation of utter bliss.

Another note from Allura, held up by her miniature Altean assistant. The smallest hint of awe in the tiny critter's eyes, a touch of red to her fur, _Kiss her goodnight, Lance. Softly and just upon her brow..._ Without a moment's hesitation, he did. Standing unsteadily, a confused frown and a light colour to his cheeks, Lance began to wander away. It may have been his name he heard mumbled from the couch, or maybe he was just imagining it. He looked for one last message from Chuchule and was at first not disappointed. Then, upon reading only the single word, _Consider..._ writ large upon it, he realised there was no wisdom to be found there. The last traces of her warmth faded from his lips, but the memory lingered. He wondered, thought of possibilities that he had until now never even thought of as _possibilities._

“ _Consider_...” Lance whispered to himself, settling back at last into his bunk. And in his restless slumber, he did.

 


	15. An Inescapable Admission

“You know what...?” Pidge smiled with a furious determination, “Quiznak it!” Her resolve steely and certain, “I'm worrying too much about what _could_ happen and I might be missing out on something great.” She marched through the darkened castle corridors toward one of many communal areas. This one, she knew, was a favourite of his. “I'm going to walk right up to him, I'm going to tell that dork _exactly_ how I feel...” One butterfly began to flutter, “I'm just going to walk up to him and kiss him right on his dopey face! And _nothing_ is going to...” He sits placidly, watching the stars drift by, a familiar pair of headphones nestled upon his head. A few start to flutter, butterflies in her stomach. He nods along softly to the music. He's right there. Just a few steps. No, that's standing still. And next comes the colour rushing to her face. Then, the colour _draining_ from her face. There is an entire _Springs worth_ of butterflies now. Spinning on one heel, Pidge retreats. She trots away slowly at first, then saunters off briskly and finally runs away rapidly. Just before the young woman could transition to a sprint, she is forced to a sudden chest heaving, breath catching stop. Hunk and Allura stare at her, quite obviously perplexed.

“Alien death worm?” Hunk enquires, “Macroscopic bacteria?” On this one he even sounds hopeful, “Evil Paladins from another reality complete with fetching goatees...? Coran sleepwalking in his birthday suit...? Again...?”

“Now now...” Allura politely chided, “Coran's not been having those episodes for weeks now. Though that does still leave three very distinct possibilities...” She turned to Pidge, “What horror are you escaping...?”

“Escaping...?” She smiled nervously, “I'm not escaping anything... Just...getting some exercise in! Decided to just, have a bit of a jog around the castle, y'know, training...?”

“Your face seemed _quite_ terrified...” Allura insisted, her tone growing more concerned. “Oh...” Her attention turned to a scampering little friend. Chulatt nodded to the Princess as she raised the little mouse up on one palm. The Princess's expression turned from a frown, to shock and finally to joy. “She said _that_...? Out loud...? Can it be _true_...? _O frabjous day_! _Callooh_! _Callay_!”

“We don't all speak psychic mouse here...” Hunk reminded the Princess, grasping Pidge's hoodie as the green paladin again attempted to make a desperate run for it. “What'd he say, Allura...?” Pidge continued to struggle, heaving and straining.

“A confession!” Allura practically danced for joy on the spot, “Oh, this is truly _wondrous_!!”

“Confession...?” Hunk was getting more confused, “I didn't even know there'd been a crime...” Pidge meanwhile was grasping desperately at the wall, yanking herself away and flailing her legs madly, her foot whistling below Hunk's belt. “That one got a little close for comfort there, Pidge...”

“Not that sort of confession!” Allura Scooped the Green Paladin up in her arms, twirling in an embrace, “It is the most wonderful and joyous of confessions! It is a confession of _love_ that must _not_ remain silent any longer!”

Pidge's efforts doubled to escape from Allura's steel-grip-cuddle, “I'll bite.” Pidge warned, “I'll bite, I'll kick, I'll _pull hair harder than you ever had hair pulled before..._ ” She tried to sound fierce, but it only came across as desperate. “Please don't do this...”

“Your resolve merely _falters_ Pidge!” Allura drew the younger Paladin closer, holding her tighter, “Do not let it fail you!”

Hunk, feeling as though he was a couple of pages behind, scratched his head in bewilderment. He wandered toward the communal area, hoping to find some clue. His eyes lit up in realisation as he peeked through the door frame, he hurried back as excitedly as child told _shopping spree at the toy store_ perhaps even more excitedly than that, “No way no way no _way!!_ No...WAY!!” His smile seemed to engulf his face, his high pitched squeal of joy became silent to human ears, Chulatt frowned at it's volume as did Alllura long after Hunk or Pidge could hear it. “Ohmygoshthey'regonnamakesuchacutecouple!” Hunk could barely breathe much less pause between the words, “Lance is _so_ gonna make me the best man!! Head chef too!!”

Pidge's expression was one of terror and embarrassment. “Oh Quiznak... I'm going to be sick...”

“That is simply nerves!” Allura squeezed as Pidge heaved and swallowed, “You are about to embark on a wonderful journey meant for two, if only you have the strength to chase it!”

“Getting ahead of myself...” Hunk was still caught up in a dreamy reverie, “First, they need a few dates... Maybe we can find a carnival planet or a water park planet...? They have those right...? Or maybe a _casino planet_...? We could send the two of you on a mission there! You can free some intelligent alien horses, smash up a few _bourgeois_ alien clubs, inspire some kids to join the Voltron Coalition and ultimately grow closer by the end of a series of wacky hi-jinks... But where are we going to find a cute enough droid to send with you...?” He gasped in joyous realisation, “Even better! I can make you guys a _picnic_ to have in Kaltenecker's field!! I can put in all your favourite things and romantic little hors d'oeuvres! Freshly baked bread! We could even turn the field to the night settings, set them up a candlelit dinner! Oh _man_ I think I'm going to burst!!”

“Oh, I like that one!” Allura's smile struggled against Pidge's hand trying to shove herself free, “Coran is _quite_ proficient with the Pontavian Bag-Pipes... They're an admittedly _acquired taste_ but they could certainly set a romantic mood...”

“Could you both _cut it out_!?” Pidge seethed, “Stop making plans for my non-existent love life!!”

“Oh, but dear sweet Pidge, it _shall_ exist!” Allura nodded to Hunk. “Kindly grab her other arm, please. She is _quite_ wriggly...”

And wriggle she did. Heave, strain, lash and grunt. Pull and shove and ultimately give in. “Why are you both doing this...?” Pidge dangles helplessly between Hunk and Allura. “I ought to Bayard you both right where the stars don't glow...”

“Well...” Hunk explained, chuckling at Pidge's feet. They were desperate to touch the floor, flailing and failing, “I'm a leg. She's a leg. Legs, we support. It's just what we do... And we're going to support you to do this!”  
  
“Hunk is right!” Allura laughed brightly, “You must have courage, Pidge and let us legs carry you forward! Then, perhaps you and Lance might form the Voltron intended for two!!”

“Y'know...” Pidge grumbled, “By _forcing_ me to do this, you know that's not courage on my part... In fact it's more like I'm being forced _against my will_...” Her face began to grow paler, her brow bloomed with droplets of sweat, “Please guys... Don't do this...”

“Well...” Allura utterly ignored her pleas, “To confess will indeed need courage, will it not? We shall carry you, we shall let nothing stop you! But, we aren't about to move your lips and tongue for you...”

Hunk smirked and chuckled, “Lance might just help you do that though...”

Pidge was now red enough that the Lion of the same name would look positively porcelain pale in comparison.

“Very true, Hunk.” Allura stifled a chuckle, “I suspect he may be moved to such passion in a heartbeat.”

“I hope you realise...” Pidge forced through gritted teeth, “That I _hate you both so much right now_...”

“Oh hush!” Allura chided, “You two shall look back upon this moment and laugh about it. Hunk and I, central in your tale, shall most likely be remembered fondly enough to be considered for names. Middle names at least...”

“Names...?” Pidge groaned.

“For your kids of course!” Hunk explained, “Man, if Lance has anything to say about it, it'll be a _big_ family...”

Pidge was almost pulling her arms free of their sockets in an attempt to escape, not only from the two methodically walking forward but also from the steadily more awkward conversation. “Why did I even _ask..._?” She looked desperately to Chulatt, following them along on the ground, “Help a girl out here... There's cookies in it for you...? _Phoebs_ worth of cookies...? You can even sleep on my pillow...?” Chulatt shook her tiny head. Pidge glared. “Et tu, Chulatt...?”

“Do you suppose the children will have _freckles_...? Is that the human term for the adorable little spots of colour on the skin...?”

“Mom and Dad _both_ have them... So...” Hunk squeed again, “Their kids are gonna be so quiznaking cute!!”

By now, Princess and Paladin were stood firmly at the door, prey ahead of them and prisoner between them. Hunk, keeping his broad heft across the door frame as wide as he could, wiggled into position. Allura, a step ahead, manoeuvred herself into the room just a touch. Pidge's struggles by now were dwindling.

“On three.” The Princess's command none the less regal despite the situation. “ _Three!_ ” And with a hard shove, she and Hunk sent Pidge clumsily scrambling into the room, limbs wildly splaying in an attempt to stay upright. In this small window, Hunk and Allura solidified their defence at the door, arms folded and expressions stern like a pair of reverse bouncers.

Pidge dusted herself off, looking briefly to Lance who continued to nod his head along gently to music only he could hear, “Not doing it.” She declared firmly. “You two can stand there a whole _quintant_... I am _not_ doing it...”

“What y'not doing Number Five?” A familiar Altean tone asked from the corridor. When Coran frowned, his furrowing eyebrows were mirrored by his moustache. He whispered a touch to loud, “ _Princess!_ ” He hissed, “Is it a hive of _Mongonian brain worms..._? Is that why you're trying to contain her...?”

“Don't be silly.” Allura clicked her tongue dismissively, “Do you _see_ viscous violet ichor pouring from her nose...? No, this is more a case of...” She nodded to Lance on the sofa, “A friendly intervention...”

Coran followed her gesture, “Oh...? _Oh!_ I get it now! Human courtship. Fascinating. Mind if I watch...?”

“Make yourself a comfortable part of the wall...” Hunk smirked.

“I mind!!” Pidge finally and _loudly_ protested, “Not only do I _mind_ but there is going to be _nothing_ to watch!!” She looked to Lance who was by now mid head-bang as the music clearly got far rockier. “Unless you count that...”

“Is there a problem here...?” A stern voice from the corridor queried, “Why are we all...?” Shiro quickly took stock of the situation, looking to the wall of bodies blocking the door, an obviously flustered Pidge and a – more so than usually - oblivious Lance. He took a long sip from a coffee mug marked #1 Space Dad. With a small wince he realised, he missed coffee. He missed it a lot. He sighed and hoping for clarity, looked to Allura, “And this is...?”

“A blockade.” Hunk offered. “Pidge shall not pass.”

“A fascinating study of human behaviour.” Coran was busy making notes on a a data pad.

“The first page of a wondrous tale! One they shall write together!” Allura's response was filled with joy.

“ _Embarassing!_ ” Pidge seethed, gripping her fists tightly. “Tell them to let me go, Shiro!”

Shiro smiled kindly, paternally, but with the slightest hint of mischief, “Actually...” He began with a growing smirk, “I _have_ been meaning to talk to you about how you've not been 100% recently, Pidge. Your focus seems to have been slipping here and there. Only a minor discrepancy, but for you, even a _small_ deviation is a big deal...”

Pidge realised with a sinking feeling in her chest, the cold grasp of blood rushing _from_ her paling features, that Shiro was not about to give her the answer she so desperately wanted. “I hate you all...” Pidge mumbled.

“I wouldn't have expected _this_ would be the _main_ cause, but...” Shiro was hiding his laughter very badly, “I think I can see _some_ logic in clearing the air between the two of you. Don't worry, we'll all here for you.”

Pidge glared back at the manically grinning faces of her former friends as they blocked her only escape. Somewhere in the back of her mind she wondered how easy it would be to smash through the window and tumble free into the welcome embrace of the cold void of space. She was only partially kidding. Watching as three more observers scurried to Allura and joined the wall, the conversation between Princess and quartet of Space Mice was pretty obvious to understand just from their little expressions. So now everyone knew. Everyone except one... Well, _two_ technically if you counted Keith but there was no way he'd be done cross referencing the castle database with the latest Blades Intel... At least, that's what she told herself, right before the stern looking teen, casually dressed for the first time in what may have been phoebs for him, joined the wall silently.

After a moment of study, Keith queried, “Pidge asking Lance out?”

“Yup.” Hunk confirmed.

“About time.” Keith sighed, “Anyone bring popcorn?”

Coran offered Keith a small insectoid _something_ covered in translucent orange dribbling _something else_. “Yummy Gummy Gribbly Bite? They're delicious _and_ high in protein.” Keith took it with a nod of thanks. Whatever the sickly sweet and almost rubbery chewy morsel once was; he had been forced to eat _far_ worse by necessity. As the rest of the group noticed no immediate loss of life or reaction of disgust from Keith, each were soon silently chewing on a rainbow of Coran's odd snacks. All the while, the wall stared, urging Pidge forward.

The pale and fear racked Green Paladin almost expected Kaltenecker to appear and stand alongside them all. A sudden diplomatic envoy to arrive, that would mean Lotor would stand watching. Maybe a wormhole would open and Matt would be a witness as well, with a big dopey grin of encouragement. Maybe her Dad would just suddenly drop by unannounced. Then the escape scenarios began to flood in. There wasn't even a vent to crawl through in this room... Not one big enough for a human anyway... Not even a small human. She could power through the wall of onlookers, maybe try to summon her Bayard at this distance... But every scenario, she soon realised that would at best be a stay of execution.

There was, Pidge quickly realised, only one option left, “Please...” She begged her crew, “Don't make me _do this..._ ”

Keith spoke up first, “Just do it!” He complained, “You _really_ think we'd all be doing this if we didn't _know that he li_...?!”

Allura shoved a handful of Yummy Gummy Gribbly Bites into Keith's mouth, “Pidge...” Allura smiled with soft certainty, “Would we all steer you toward disaster...?”

“Hrmrmrph!” Keith offered a thumb upward.

“C'mon, Pidge...” Hunk assured, “What's the worst that could happen...?”

The mice had somehow found exceptionally tiny blue and green pom-poms, they were mid cheer routine.

“Life's like a bag of insect candy...” Coran said with a kind smile, “Delicious, occasionally bitter... But always best when shared...”

“Go to him.” Shiro nodded, his expression serene, “Just try.”

Step followed step, determination growing once again. The headphones came free suddenly, her lips, smiling, close beside his ear. “You come here to rock out...?” She asked, startling Lance only for a moment, then with her next word, stunning him into an enraptured gaze, “... _handsome_...”

He looked adorable, caught in the headlights was the expression that came to mind. Dark blue eyes shined with confusion, then curiosity turning to hope. Hope soon giving way to an unspoken joy. He was, however, something Lance almost never was. Silent. He had no other choice at this stage. After all, as her lips pressed close to his, he could only respond with a contended hmmm, and arms encircling her shoulders. Hunk's earlier prediction came true... The cheers of the wall began to fade...

* * * * *

Allura's lap had disappeared. In it's place, a small pile of pillows. Pidge blinked, readjusting to the sudden return of reality. That's right, she realised... Glass of warm milk. Interfering Alien Princess. The rest, she realised with a sad sigh had just been her overactive mind once again. Though, there was something else that couldn't be so easily discarded as a figment of her longing. Draped about her, warm and comforting, feeling large enough that she might lose her arms inside it, a very familiar blanket. From it's soft grey hood to it's all too familiar scent of just a touch too much body spray, Lance's jacket. The sequence of events was self explanatory, though what did give her a moment's pause was a tiny scrap of paper. In a very elaborate cursive font, seemingly penned by hand, it read _Consider..._

With the slightest frown, Pidge moved to tuck the odd slip of paper into Lance's jacket pocket, finding nestled in there a green and white pen that, whilst surprisingly enough not her own, did seem oddly familiar. The other side of the paper did not remain blank for long. Pidge filled it with a simple message; _Thanks for the comfy blanket, Lance._ She looked at it thoughtfully, oddly familiar pen in hand and the desire to write just one small thing more. With two pen strokes, she completed the message with a tidy; _x_

Message, jacket and pen alike, she would return when the morning rolled around. The sofa was fine, she realised, but her bunk would be so much comfier. “For now though...” Pidge muttered, placing her arms as deep in the sleeves as they would go and shrugging the garment over her shoulders, “I'm keeping you, jacket...” She laughed softly, “Tonight, you're a portable cuddle...” Lance would probably complain about the creases, Pidge realised. Though her rebuttal was all prepared. “I'll ask him... Next time, maybe I can take _you_ rather than the jacket...?” The look on his face alone would be _so_ worth it.

 


End file.
